Buried Treasure
by AceTrent
Summary: Edward Kenway had plenty of precious things in his life. But the treasures he found to be most true and priceless were the ones, he realized, were already gone and buried. A Kiddway epic.
1. Part 1, Chapter 0

Ahoy, Kiddway shippers! I got plenty of inspiration from Tumblr blogs, such as assassinscreedconfessions and kiddway-headcanons (which I believe has changed since I wrote this). Do check those out if you haven't already done so. Along with Kiddway, this fic will focus on the build-up of some of Edward's relationships with his other friends, which I felt was lacking in the game (the ending was touching, but if there had been more of a growth in the characters and their relationships, it would have been even more emotionally powerful). The majority of the fic will concentrate on the lovely Kiddway, though. I wrote a prologue for y'all that's probably more exciting than this chapter, but I won't be releasing it until later. I know I should start stories off with more of a bang, but I promise the "prologue" will be more powerful this way.

 _Assassin's Creed_ belongs to Ubisoft. I'm simply using my imagination and inspiration from the creative minds of others to write about series like this. Like most fans, I can only _wish_ it belonged to me. But no. It doesn't.

Inspired by canon events and characters, this work of fanfiction was designed, developed, and produced by a multicultural person influenced by various faiths and beliefs.

* * *

Prologue - December, 1712

Looking out at the vast waters and skillfully crafted ships before him at the white sands of Nassau, Edward Kenway wondered if he had a sufficient amount of Spanish _reales_ to splurge on drinks at the renowned Old Avery tavern. He and some fellow privateers had been planning for a while to meet at the place that day, when all the ships they served for would be docked at Nassau. Having arrived early, perhaps just before midday, Edward decided to go ahead and investigate the tavern as he waited for his friends to arrive.

 _A grand venue_ , he noted as he made his way up the staircase and to the bar. "I'll have meself some of your _finest_ rum," he said rather assertively to the middle-aged bartender behind the counter. He slammed several coins of reales onto the polished wood.

After giving a nod of thanks to the man for the rum, Edward had barely turned around and took a step when he ran into a man a tad shorter than him, causing him to spill a large portion of his rum and drenching them both in expensive rum. Pulling away, a startled Edward looked down at his now soaked privateer uniform, and then at the other man. Taking a closer look, Edward noticed he was actually more of a lad, being slight in figure and giving off a somewhat rebellious aura.

" _Pardon_ , mate," the boy said in a biting voice, almost sarcastically. Edward was rather put off by his unapologetic manner. So he roughly placed his free hand on the young man's chest and shot him an unforgiving scowl: "Watch it, lad."

"Watch it? Watch _yerself_ instead o' yer _drink_ ," the boy responded in an irritated tone as he swiftly parried Edward's hand and shoved him away, knocking the other man out of balance until he slammed into a table.

"Oh, you're looking for a fight, eh?" Edward threatened. He took one gulp of the nearly empty mug and placed it on the table he bumped into. Then, he positioned himself into a fighting stance, and urged the defiant boy to come at him. By now, most of the people in the surrounding area were watching the two, intrigued.

"If ye insist," the young man leered back as he, too, took an offensive pose. The pair circled one another as other customers, not wanting to take part in the brawl, backed off. Edward then aimed a blow to the boy's bandana-covered head.

Prompt in his thinking, the boy deflected Edward's arm, just as he did not a minute ago, grabbed hold of it, and twisted it behind the blonde, eliciting a momentary whimper out of him. Edward used his free elbow to attack his opponent, and, yet again, somehow failed to land a hit. The younger man kicked the backs of both of Edward's knees, causing the both of them to crash onto the floor planks. Edward toppled over with one arm still twisted behind him, the other arm landing by his head, his face turned to the side. The next thing he knew, the boy was straddling his back, effectively pinning him down, and he felt a sharp pinch at his neck. A blade? He briefly wondered how the young man could get one out so quickly. And with one hand!

"Some accomplished tactics ya got there, lad. S'pose ya got me." _Bloody bastard._ _If I'd only kicked backwards while I tried to elbow him… would that even work?_

The crowd cheered for the young man and his victory, making Edward cringe more than his twisted arm did.

"Tch. Yer buyin' me drinks, man," the boy teasingly hissed with a smirk before letting go of his arm and getting off his back. By the time Edward got up, he noticed the lad didn't have a weapon that could produce that pinch to his neck. There was something magical about the kid.

Edward reluctantly paid for the young man's rum, and said boy sipped gleefully, watching citizens and visitors of Nassau go about their business. Edward's own beverage long gone (and saving his money for the gathering later), the defeated privateer cleared his throat and attempted to make conversation, "So what's your name, lad?"

"Kidd. James Kidd."

"Like ol' Cap'n Kidd?"

"Like ol' Cap'n Kidd."

"Don't reckon there's any relation?"

"Me father. Or so me mum'd claim before her end."

Edward felt a pang of something like guilt as he realized Kidd was telling him of his illegitimate birth and that his mother, a loose woman in all probability, was long gone… rendering the boy an orphan. "Ah."

"An' yers?"

"Hmm?"

"Yer name."

"Ah!" Edward realized that he hadn't yet introduced himself, "Kenway. Edward James Kenway."

"Ah? We got a name'n common, Mr. Kenway," Kidd noted with a sly smile.

Edward pursed his lips and nodded uncomfortably. The atmosphere wasn't much less tense, yet Kidd softened his eyes and smiled genuinely, putting down his mug and stretching a welcoming hand towards the blonde.

"'Tis a pleasure to meet ye, Edward James Kenway."

 _He's taunting me_ , Edward thought at once. But looking deeper into the boy's warm, brown eyes, he couldn't help but feel otherwise _._ He relaxed himself, took the hand, and firmly shook it: "An' to you as well, Kidd."

Edward settled that he rather appreciated the company of this interesting James Kidd, difficult as the orphan boy had been, and invited him to his get-together.

* * *

By the afternoon, Edward's mates had showed up at the tavern, and soon, they were enjoying light-hearted banter.

What 'bout ye, Kenway?", questioned the young lad, James Kidd, in his thick accent. "Got some amusin' tale yer dyin' to tell the lot of us?"

The rest of the privateers at the table, one of them called Edward Thatch, one named Charles Vane, and the other a Benjamin Hornigold, leaned in, their sides still sore from bursting with laughter at their previous stories, mug after mug of rum supplied to them at Old Avery. They had taken an instant liking to the feisty yet laid-back Kidd, and Edward wondered how he and the lad could have gotten off on the wrong foot.

Edward searched through his memories for an entertaining, humorous anecdote as he took another gulp of rum.

"Ah, got one. So 'ere I am, a six year ol' lad and me first tooth falls out. Me mum tells me 'bout the tooth fairy. Ya know how the lass gives ya money if ya put your tooth beneath that pillow?"

The privateers nodded anxiously. _Would they really find this all that giggle-worthy?_

"Well, me mum put a lone pound beneath me pillow that night. But I did not know it- that me mum was the suppos'd tooth fairy. No. I thought- if the fairy paid for the tooth, what more for other lovely, more useful body parts, eh? I remember me good-for-nuttin' uncle would say to me, that he'd pay whatever li'l amount of pounds he got for one of 'em trollops, or as we here affectionately call 'em, 'dancers', for their bodies, 'specially their parts in between the legs. So I tell me mum, 'The tooth fairy pays me a pound a tooth but I never get the bloody thing back, right? Why, _I_ _'_ _d_ rather become like one of uncle's girls. I'd get 25 pounds for lendin' others me entire mouth or 75 for me whole body every time, _and_ I get to keep me teeth!"

"The tooth fairy teaches kids that they can sell their body parts for money!"

The whole tavern burst out. It turned out that other folks in the area had been listening in ever since Edward mentioned the dancers.

"That _fairy_ lass should get into the business!" yelled out Thatch as he slapped his own thigh and cackled. Nearly everyone spit out their beverages in laughter after that.

The laughter died down gradually, and a quite tipsy Hornigold stood up as best as he could without flopping over to announce his farewells: "A fiii-ne childhood ye got, Kenway. Well, good fellows, I think've had 'nuff for a night. I bid g'bye to ya all, and if yer lookin' fer the mighty Hornigold, ye can find 'im amongst 'em da…danc- DID YA SAY SOME?", Hornigold asked to no one in particular.

"Yeesh. 'Ey don't call ye Hornigold fer nuttin', do 'ey?" asked a smirking Kidd, casually.

"Bugger off, willya?", Hornigoldsloppily responded, "An' what do _you_ know 'bout that kinda stuff? Yer… yer just a _kid_ , ye li'l pest!"

"Least he's mature 'nuff to handle the way he _drinks_ , Ben," Vane chuckled before taking a swig of his own.

"Wha'ever, ye cocky bastard, Vane. I got some'n more delightful in mind'n conversin' with the lot of ya right now," and with that Hornigold saluted casually and stumbled off to the direction _opposite_ of the Nassau brothel.

"I fear that man'll one day do something he grimly regrets," commented an entertained Thatch, eyeing his empty mug.

Not entirely sure what the bearded man meant, Edward, Vane, and Kidd looked at each other and shrugged it off. "He's got potential to do great things. That's fer sure," Vane said solemnly while looking at the early signs of day's end, the sun beginning to turn the sky an orange hue. A peaceful silence fell over the group.

"Tell me. 'ow did ye blokes get to befriendin' one another?", Kidd asked the other men.

Thatch answered, "We was connected by the men we serv'd under. Kenway here was privateerin' with me under some cap'n, then we transferred to different ships, both of which Vane was under. And Vane and Hornigold knew each other some'ow. Er… some'n like that."

Vane laughed, "Aye, well, even I don't remember. What does it ma'er now, anyway? What's impor'ant is that 'ere we are enjoyin' ourselves, eh!"

"True that, Vane!" Thatch agreed.

"Aye, but do ya lads _really_ believe that we'll get the riches we've been dreamin' of as privateers? I say we should be the cap'n o' our own sails!" preached Edward enthusiastically. And Thatch, Vane, and Kidd cheered, "Hear, hear!"

Vane added, "Ya know what? We haven't toasted at all this afternoon, have we? Well, why don't we do so right now?"

"Too bad Hornigold ain't 'ere to toast with us. Then again, makin' 'im wait fer the rum would teach 'im to 'preciate it!" laughed Thatch.

"So what're we toastin' to, Vane?", asked Edward.

Vane ambitiously raised his mug: "'Ere's to a life of makin' our fine dreams come true within these lands and seas!" he said, passion seeped in every word, "To a life of gettin' what we want fer once!"

Going along with Vane's peppy toast, the other kindled privateers raised their own mugs and clinked them together.

An hour or so later, Edward was bidding Thatch and Vane goodbye, "So long, lads!"

The two raised an arm each in response before disappearing behind the corner of the tavern.

"What now, Kenway? All yer friends 'bandoned ye!" James grinned.

"Why don't we take a walk, Kidd? I'd like to explore the rest of this wonderful town."

The younger man agreed, "A swell idea ye got. C'mon."

"But first, lemme get another bottle o' rum."

* * *

"What do ye really want out of the West Indies, Kenway? What's yer reason fer bein' 'ere?"

"It's like I said before, Kidd. I want wealth. All the riches a man could ever want!"

"I know ye want 'nuff to make it well back where yer from, that's a reason why I'm 'ere. An' I agree that bein' the cap'n o' our own ships be the best means of gettin' there. But at the same time, Kenway," added Kidd, "don't ye think ye could do without _all_ o' the West Indies betwixt yer hands? After all, there wouldn't be 'nuff left o'er for me an' Thatch an' Vane an' Hornigold!"

"Aye, I'm havin' a time here, Kidd, but I want _more_ ," Edward responded, "I suppose I want jus' 'nuff to be well off for a lifetime."

"An' by 'well off' I s'pose ye mean 'livin' _beyond_ lavishly'."

"Aye. One an' the same to me," Edward said before chugging some rum and looking around where they ended up.

"Look at what Hornigold's missin' out on," Edward pointed to the bustling brothel, dancers outside displaying their goods to passersby. He wolf whistled admiringly.

"Careful, Kenway. Remember yer flushed from drink," warned Kidd.

"C'mon. When do we ever really enjoy our hard-earned reales?"

"Ye mean _waste_ it on things ye can make an' do yerself? Are ye so squiffy ye can't remember ye even spent yer _precious_ reales drinkin'? I thought ye mentioned earlier that like e'eryone else, yer savin' up 'nuff to be ' _well off_ ' back on Queen Anne's territory."

"Sure, sure. Jus' checkin' 'em out," Edward defended himself against the younger lad's witty remarks and remembered Caroline awaiting his return to England, " 'Sides, I ain't _that_ drunk, Kidd. I hold me alc'ol well…. Hey- what 'bout _you_? 'Xactly 'ow old're ya anyway? Don't suppose you ever bedded a lass?"

"Li'l personal to ask that kinda question to one ye jus' met, ya think, Kenway?" Kidd responded crossing his arms and eyeing Edward taking one last, large swig of his bottle of rum.

"Ain't _that_ personal. Listen 'ere. I've bedded prolly-"

"No need fer 'at, Kenway! I think we be'er get ye back to yer ship."

"Ya mean back to that no good bum of a cap'n? Think after I'm done with me privateerin', like I mentioned a time ago I think, I should be the cap'n of me own set o' sails!" Edward began to stagger as the two walked away from the dancers and bustling Nassau to the docks.

"Dream on, Cap'n Ke-", Kidd started as he wrapped the bigger, drunker man's arm around him for support.

"'Ere's an idea! Since ye've pro'ly never bedded a lass, I'll buy ye yer first! C'mon," Edward was now the one to drag the stubborn Kidd over to the dancers.

"'Old on, Kenway! I don't wan' one fer the night!"

"Nonsense, Kidd. E'ery man's got his desires for this sorta thing! …Unless ya swing the other way?"

"Yer the one talkin' nonsense, now, as if ye haven't been this entire walk," argued Kidd as he escaped the burly grasp of Edward Kenway. But the blonde man simply wouldn't take it. He approached a blonde dancer and leaned a hand on the rotten wood of the building just behind her. His other hand found its way to his hip as he leaned closer to her. Kidd listened from a distance, arms crossed.

" 'Ow much for the night, miss?"

"1,200 reales, handsome. _But_ , I promise to make it worth it all," she purred with a wink.

"An' how 'bout 1,000? C'mon lass," he negotiated, giving the woman a sensual look.

"Mm hmm… Ya got yourself a deal," she yielded, pleased by Edward's charisma.

The corners of Edward's lips rose as he took out and sifted through the coins. Kidd scoffed behind him, surprised the carefree blonde actually had enough cash.

After handing the dancer her pay, Edward explained, "But the one who'll do the honour of laying with ya is this lad 'ere."

The woman gave a hesitant look at Kidd, thinking perhaps that Edward would be a better lay or that men don't usually pay for other lads to see whores. Kidd meanwhile, raised a hand cautiously as he backed away, "Oh-hoh no, Kenway. If ye'll waste yer coin, it won't be on me!"

The trollop was obviously put off by now, her eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed, while Edward, sobering up ever so slightly by the second, raised his eyebrows. He realized-

"Jaysus! Ya _are_ the type to go for other lads."

"Believe what ye want, ya _charmin' gent_. Fer all I know, _you_ could be the one tryin' to hide 'is _own_ desires fer the same kind!" yelled Kidd as he turned around and walked away from the blondes with a dismissive wave.

Edward smirked and shouted back, "You're not so bad lookin' yourself, Kidd! Forget this lass!" The offended whore scoffed. "How 'bout ye get o'er 'ere and let _me_ be yer first!" He tilted his head upward and chuckled.

He didn't get the chance to see James Kidd smile to herself at the thought.

* * *

The morning after, Edward woke up on a wooden table near Old Avery, fully clothed and with the woman in his arms. After lamenting his hangover and waste of- rather, _misuse_ of 1,000 reales, he amused himself by pondering William Kidd's supposed illegitimate son.

 _James Kidd is queer_ , he concluded playfully, and a strange thing happened.

Edward Kenway's heart gave a powerful thump, and he felt bizarrely delighted.

* * *

I must say- I'm proud of myself for making that tooth fairy anecdote, as horrible as it actually was. "The tooth fairy teaches kids that they can sell their body parts for money!"

I'm bound to make typos when typing out the story- I would appreciate you indicating them to me so I can fix them :)

Tooth Fairy Trivia: One theory of the tooth fairy's origin is a tradition from 18th century France (the same century AC4 takes place in) of a "tooth mouse" likely based on _La Bonne Petite Souris_ , a French fairy tale in which a mouse hides under a pillow to taunt an evil king, and punishes him by knocking out all his teeth. The modern tooth fairy which I mention in this chapter didn't emerge until the 1900's. Oh well. I needed something humorous and _original_ , and that's what I could come up with.


	2. Part 1, Chapter 1

Like any other person would have been, Caroline Scott was snug in her comfort zone. While her venturesome husband lived on the wild side, she would watch from afar; not always with approval, but always with high hopes. She once hoped for a successful family life with him. Having herself been raised in a family that would only accept secure means of living, she couldn't tolerate his ways without inducing disapproving remarks from relatives.

Once, when Edward still lived between the cobblestone roads of early 18th-century England, it rained especially loudly, considering England's famed drizzly climate. Edward could guess why. That day, he found his wife, a Mrs. Caroline Scott-Kenway, sprawled outside their small house. She was lying down with her back to the grass, her dress drenched and noticeably muddy. He knew she wanted to be alone, away from him and his crazy dreams of sailing amongst the rainy islands of the West Indies. That sort of rainy was different from England's.

Was it the gloomy atmosphere at home that made the rain particularly loud? Edward couldn't say for certain. And he couldn't say for certain if he was crying, since rain fell on his cheeks as he watched Caroline from the threshold of their back door. It was starting to get drenched inside.

He felt rather sorry for trapping her in this marriage. Sorry for not realizing their differences. This entire affair was a mistake, wasn't it? Edward resented his inability to express his love for her in a way _both_ of them appreciated. He found her captivating, and he certainly cared for her. On the other hand, though, he was also aware that his passions and hers were not alike.

Risking an argument, he walked over to where she lay, "We're getting too mucky."

Caroline reckoned he wasn't referring to their clothes or bodies, now doused in mud. To Edward's surprise, she even looked back at him. He could not read anger or sorrow in her, but she was not filled with joy, either.

"Let's get ya back inside and get ya clean," Edward said softly as he offered a hand to help her up. Caroline nodded and accepted his hand, not suspecting that her husband could have been hiding tears in the rain, her own purpose in lying down outside here.

She bathed, put on a new, clean dress, and prepared a hot meal for the two of them. Before she took a bite, though, she wondered where he had gone off to.

Caroline came upon Edward outside, having never moved. It was still pouring, and he seemed to be dancing in the falling water, stretching his arms our and tilting his head upwards. It seemed, he could better feel the droplets land on his skin that. The rhythm of the rain persisted as he stepped in a circular motion to it. He was far muddier than Caroline had been earlier, and he appeared to be even deeper in a fantasy land.

"Edward! Come inside. I've cooked."

He turned towards her and replied, "Sorry, Caroline, I ain't hungry right now."

So Caroline ate her meal alone and Edward swayed in the rain.

* * *

 _Part I, Chapter 1 - March 1716_

"Mmm… Ah… Kidd," Edward groaned as he woke abruptly from his nap-turned-deep-sleep. Great Inagua's beach boasted fantastic scenery; the bent palm trees were particularly cozy.

"Wake up, Kenway."

He immediately took hold of the branch Kidd was smacking him with and threw it aside brashly. "Is Thatch about?" Edward asked groggily as he sat upright.

Kidd went after the discarded branch, "He left this morning with the galleon. 'as faith we'll discover a good use fer this old cove ourselves."

Edward got down from the tree and scanned the plentiful vista the island had to offer. "Aye. We'll make something of it in time. We could keep a fleet here, if we liked. And with a bit of fixing up, it'd be a decent place to call home. Might even convince my wife to come one day."

He stopped and contemplated having Caroline over.

"Yer _married_ , are ya?" asked Kidd almost inaudibly to Edward. He was rather amazed that, in his years of knowing his fellow privateers- now full-blown pirates- he never really brought up his own wife, perhaps out of respect for her or perhaps to avoid remembering how she abandoned him. But he was surprised even more so, when he took in just how casually he discussed her now. Nevertheless, he continued, "In God's eyes, I am. She left me some time ago."

"Even so, keep that fact hid away," Kidd commented with a friendly pat on Edward's arm, "Most o' these pirates don't respect a man with higher commitments than rum an' plunder."

"'Pon mine honour. …You're not keeping your snide laugher from me, now are ya Kidd?"

"Unlike those kind o' pirates," Kidd said as he started for the jungle area, "I find 'em quali'y traits admirable, Kenway."

Edward relaxed a tad. There was _something_ about Kidd that separated him from the typical pirate- even from their _own_ lot of cronies. "Awright, Kidd. Let me know if ya find anything."

With a nod, Kidd left him alone.

* * *

The blonde listened intently as James Kidd showed his discoveries. Following the younger man's instructions, he clambered on top of an ancient statue and took full advantage of his gift of eagle vision. As he liked to put it, he listened to the shapes on the ground and looked at the sounds around him. And doing so, he viewed everything from a new perspective- including Kidd's voice.

The melodic tone sounded… as it usually did- though perhaps a tad crisper in its clarity. But actually taking the time to analyze each word spoken, Edward appreciated the bandana-donning boy's heavy accent and his sophisticated choice of words. He even found his undeveloped voice somehow soothing.

"Ye listenin', Kenway?"

"Pardon?"

"'Parently not. Now wipe that smile off yer face b'fore ye start ge'in ahead o' yerself an' less dig up that prize."

He chose not to mention that he had, in fact, listened to every word Kidd had said in a way he had never bothered to take the effort to do. _I wonder what his singing sounds like… And prize, he says?_

" _Now_ your speakin' me language, Jim." Edward leapt down.

Kidd went on in his easy-going manner, "Bullocks. Ye solved that puzzle yerself. I'd like to think yer rather comprehensive o' the language o' riddles. A talent ye havn't explored an' exploited yet."

Edward dug where he sensed something was buried, and held up a stone object. _This is something ancient Mayan. Or Incan, perhaps? A relief of some sort?_ He looked the slab over in wonder.

"Ye _are_ a gift'd man, Edward. Ye don't even have to concentrate to solve a puzzle. Luck, per'aps?" Kidd spoke in a tone that was livelier than his normal voice, even through his playful sarcasm. And, for the first time in longer than he would like to admit, Edward felt that he was very much appreciated. Forget the rush of plundering ships and fulfilling contracts for a moment. Something else stirred him when he heard the bandana-donning boy address him by his first name.

Edward spoke again. "Has a strange look. Is it worth something?"

"Nothin' ye can spend, but if ya find all of 'em, it'll lead to some'n grand."

"How many?"

"A few dozen, I think. This way. I've some'n else to show ye. Some'n just here," he ran into a hidden passage, "I think ye'll take to this secret much faster."

With every minute with James Kidd, it seemed, Edward was discovering more than he by himself could find in months. Indeed, the blonde found himself suddenly eager and thirsting for more.

The pair made their way inside a cave, far from the usual trail through the jungle, in which chests brimmed with gold. _Now_ this _has the makings of a mystery! Just how much is in there?_

"It's good, innit? Only wait 'til ye see what lies at the end!"

 _We've been here, what, two days? Three? In so little time, how did Kidd ever… ?_

"'ere we are. What do ye think?"

"I think _M_ _onsieur_ Du Casse was a man of many secrets."

"Aye, an' look 'ere: a solid staircase leading God knows where. What do ye s'pose lies at the top?"

"From what I knew of Du Casse, wouldn't be surprised to find eclectic instruments of torture and villainy. And iron maiden, or a collection of thumbscrews."

"Or a pear of anguish!"

Edward chuckled. He was surprised and quite delighted to find that Du Casse kept some Templar armor among his beloved _souvenirs_ , even if there was work invovled to gain access and get his hands on it. But what he was shocked to see was that the map that hesold to Torres once upon a careless time, would up back in his hands. On what was now his own island.

"Hang me. That's the map I sold to Governor Torres in Havana. He said it marked the locations of 'Assassin' encampments." _**Assassin**_ _encampments? Did he really say such a thing?_ In any case, the phrase had stuck with Edward.

Kidd narrowed his eyes at the blonde pirate, "Ye think maybe ye owe 'em a bit of a warnin' then? If ye 'ave any kind o' _heart_ beatin' in that chest?"

Speaking of hearts, Edward noticed his was beating rather rapidly. _Am I out of shape? I did quite the jog over here. But I've ran kilometers without tiring. Just a rush of excitement, then. Look at what I've acquired from the Frenchman! Those chests of gold… And imagine the power of those shimmering plates of armor! All I need now are those keys to the armor that's latched away…_

"S'pose I could. If it leads me to the other four keys." The blonde smiled, accentuating his charm. _But… what exactly are these assassin encampments?_ Kidd turned and headed for the exit, scoffing along the way.

But the boy swiftly looked back as he continued toward the door, "A bad excuse is better 'an none at all." His admonishing expression was enough to crack the ravishing persona Edward adopted and make him loosen his cheek muscles out of guilt. _Was it something I said?_

* * *

Finding himself at the docks and finding that Kidd's ship was being stocked, Edward approached the commotion. As he expected, it appeared that his time with James Kidd was ending for the time being.

"Z'at all, Jim? Leavin' already?" Edward asked, eagerly hoping for more "surprises."

"I'll leave the rest o' the explorin' to ye, Edward."

Edward felt some excitement at his invitation to do more adventuring, but he couldn't help but feel downcast as well. The boy went on, "I think this cove suits ye best, Edward. Be'er than that costume does."

 _There's that lovely wit of his again. That smirk. Better keep mine about._ "Oh, c'mon now… We're pirates, Kidd. We take as we please and become who we like. Self-made men!"

"But that look ain't you. It's not who ye are."

The blonde peered at Kidd, perplexed. "Who am I, then?"

"Hard to tell some days. All I know is, ye like dangerous prizes." Kidd crossed his arms and gave his fellow pirate a wider smirk.

"Like the Observat'ry?" Edward nodded thoughtfully, "I think ya know more 'bout that than ya let on in Nassau."

"Ye no'iced that, did ye?" the boy didn't allow his tone to acknowledge his defeat at keeping his secret, if he felt defeat at all. After eyeing Edward enough to satisfy him, he went on, "Meet me at twenty degrees, three minutes latitude. Jus' off the coast o' Yucatan. I'll have something to show ye there in a few weeks time."

Edward liked the sound of that. More information on the Observatory. More surprises. And, perhaps most excitingly, more time with Kidd as well.

The blonde stared as he realized he was left behind and the sails on James Kidd's ship were steadily receding. _What's wrong, Edward? This isn't you. Can't be you. What's keeping your head spinning? Could it be that…_ He made a grimace he hoped no one saw.

 _ **Jaysus**_ _\- is this how it is?! I mustn't replace Caroline with a lad barely out of his teens,_ " **For Christ's sake!** "He yelled kicked a deck post out of frustration, prompting some Jackdaw crewmen helping load cargo to stare at their kooky captain on the other side of the docks. They looked at each other and shrugged, silently agreeing not to make a big deal of the matter.

* * *

A short chapter. I plan to make the rest twice as long. I want to say I will update every two weeks, but I have school and applications to do. I can tell you, though, that I've already written up to Chapter 5.

I'm starting to view this as a "creative essay" to convince you that Kiddway is canon. Or, rather, how the game writers should have done things to make the story even more powerful. Plenty of the writers have skills, but.. many who've played AC3- I mean _Unity_ , now- can write pages about how tragically _boring_ the main story was (in AC3, side stories such as the homestead missions were fun, though).

By the way, I hope the written dialogue is not influenced too much by their accents. I want you to _READ_ in the way they speak, but it shouldn't be _un_ readable.

A pitiful lesson from an American on British accents: You know how when Brits say "Britain", they pronounce it BRIH-en, not BRIH-tun? I think 18th-centry pirates would pronounce "getting" GEH-uhn, but to spell it out, it would read "ge'in'". See how strange it is to read? To avoid this, I'll write "gettin'" and let you read it as GEH-uhn. I've noticed that most times, when Brits say words that has a "t" sound in the middle or end of the word, replace it with a quick breathing out sound. Ex. "start" = STAUH-ugh. "Troll" would be pronounced TRUHLL. I'd sometimes pronounce "to" as "uh", so "What're you going to do?" = WHUH-er ya GOH-won uh doou?

…That lesson on accents was lamentable.

One final thing: if ya haven't already, do check out _Am I gay?: A Journey of Self Discover with Edward Kenway_ for a nice laugh.


	3. Part 1, Chapter 2

_Part I, Chapter 2 - May, 1716_

"I know de face of a man in love."

Adéwale casually mentioned this to his captain as the Jackdaw sailed gently in the moonlight; the quartermaster of Edward's beloved ship did not miss much. While the salty ocean waves rocked the Jackdaw to and fro, creaking the wooden boards, the pirate captain looked towards his colleague, suspicion lurking in his gaze.

The quartermaster went on as Edward looked back towards the twinkling specks beyond the horizon, "Do tell me your eyes have found anoduh treasure to lust ovuh apart from de Observatory. I wonder… Ah! You have discovered de location of de seven cities of gold?"

"Hmm. I'm already wed, Ade. Nothing to lust over," Edward responded, amused and relieved. He would not have his quartermaster or any crewman- or anyone, really- knowing about his ever-growing fascination with James Kidd and his fetching personality. The way the _boy_ held himself… He was rather charming. Edward knew he absolutely would not have anyone suspecting that he was _highly_ anticipating the Jackdaw's timely arrival to Tulum, the place, as Kidd put it, "Twenty degrees, three minutes latitude, jus' off the coast o' Yucatán".

"Of course, but you nevuh speak of Miss Caroline," the dark man replied. Edward stiffened at the name while Adéwale shook his head side to side in puzzlement, "So not de seven cities of gold? What could it be dat has you enchanted, captain?"

Edward quickly replied, "You're certain we've gathered enough to last the journey to the location _Kidd_ pinpointed?"

"More than enough, captain. But nevuh too much that we ah weighed down. An' you have got my attention now dat I see you are so _desperate_ to change de topic of our conversation," he smiled knowingly at Edward.

 _Blast_.The blonde shifted his weight from one leg to another and released one hand from the wheel. "The reason I seem restless is that this is the greatest lead we have on the Observat'ry. I must keep myself on Kidd's good side if I want more information."

"'Restless' is a mild way of putting it, man," replied Adé.

Edward tensed up in his efforts to keep his secret, "How _does_ one recognize 'the face of a man in love'?"

"I could see it most clearly in you when you speak of de observatory. But as of late, you have had dat gaze in your eye in de most unexpected times."

"Such as when…?"

"Such as when you look at a map, or even when we an' de crew are speaking of something raduh gruesome. It looks as if, while your body is wid us, your mind is somewhere distant. You have an unusually fond expression an' you stay very still- almost frozen ovuh. Why is dat so?"

Edward scoffed softly. "It is as I said, Adé. It is the observatory I have my mind set 'pon."

Adéwale shook his head side to side again, almost admonishingly. "It does not add up, captain. You have known of the observatory long before I noticed these episodes of yours. And de way you answered my question jus' now- a man crazy ovuh de observatory would have a more passionate tone when talking about it," his sigh made Edward's heart sink, "Keep it to yourself if you wish. I am jus' very… how do you say it?"

"Astonished. Disappointed," Edward offered glumly.

"More like curious. As to what could have Edward Kenway acting dis way." He laughed amiably, and Edward, feeling not much more relieved, joined him nervously.

* * *

Upon their arrival at Tulum, Edward and his crew discovered not a city of sword-clad, rum-drenched pirates, but a place packed with men and women garbed in linen hoods and wrist blades. None of them seemed very welcoming to outsiders. _The next time I'm to meet with Jim, I need to expect a go of hide-and-seek, in which I'm both the one hiding_ _ **and**_ _seeking_ , the pirate captain thought bitterly, combing the jungle in search of James Kidd.

Most of the while, he ducked and crouched in the dense vegetation to avoid the watchful eyes of the island's inhabitants. At times, he was forced to silence their cries and conceal their unconscious bodies in the shrubbery, but he would not kill them. After all, they were supposed to be a sort of kin to Kidd. Killing them would make him angry with Edward. The lad wouldn't have it.

He managed to navigate the scenic jungle, not without looting a few chests, of course. At the end of his search, Kidd stood at the entrance to something like an ancient temple. Edward briefly brightened up in relief before somberly and impatiently greeting his old friend, "Jaysus, Kidd. Ya led me into a mess! Is it these monks guarding the treasure ya promised me?"

Kidd was direct as well, "I told ye I 'ad a secret to share… but I didn't say it'd be easy. Now let's get this door open and I'll show ye what's inside."

The two were about to enter the ancient door when Edward sensed someone behind him approaching. His attempt to point his pistol at his assailant was a moment too late, and he was pummeled by a tan, hooded man. Even without attacking Edward, the man immediately appeared dreadfully earnest. Yelling quickly and to the point, he was obviously angry at Duncan Walpole's betrayal to the assassins and what they stood for. It made matters worse for his troubles that Edward aided in his betrayal… for greed. The touchy hooded man was all the more infuriated by the blonde's honesty in admitting his greedy aim, and for his heartless _murdering_ of his "brothers and sisters in Havana." _Murder? A strong word…_

The tan man's bitter tattoos on his face fit his bitter mood, and Edward was left speechless and unable to defend his actions. Kidd supported the dumbstruck pirate, "He has the sense, mentor."

 _Sense? Mentor? Who in flaming hell are these people? What is this "sense" Kidd speaks of? Hold on- is he talking about the sense I used to find that stela back then…_ The tan man, tongue-tied in thought, gaped back aggressively at Edward. The pirate captain looked at Kidd uncertainly as the man with the hood and tattoos spoke, in a softer tone, of something about Templars and the sage. He then left Kidd and Edward to explore the interior of the temple so the latter could confirm the identity of the sage.

Inside, Kidd indirectly introduced Edward to the angry tattooed man, Ah Tabai, and briefed him on the Assassin order. Edward liked the sound of their creed, though the boy argued that he did not fully comprehend it. Kidd also claimed to have saved Edward's life, talking the assassins out of vengefully taking the selfish pirate's life.

 _I_ thought _things were too calm after what went down in Havana… And Kidd would defend my name…?_ "Well, cheers for that."

"Aye. Cheers." Kidd sounded far too bitter for Edward's liking, as if this Ah Tabai fellow was speaking through the boy, and as if Kidd sort of regretted defending Edward.

Kidd navigated voyaged the ruins smartly and suavely; Edward even had trouble keeping up. He was rather impressed with the boy- for both his ability in getting around, and for convincing the vindictive _assassins_ to leave him be. For a moment, he fancifully thought the boy saw something special in him, then he remembered the tone he adopted in his last response. The two continued talking as they made their way across trenches, under water, and up walls.

"Must be a great treasure beyond", Edward noted, a trace of hope in his voice.

"Treasure," Kidd responded dully, "Right."

 _What's up with Kidd?_ The two soon found an exquisite lock mechanism to a towering door. It turned out to be rather easy to straighten out, what with their teamwork, and Edward confirmed the sage was who he claimed to be. The centuries- no, millenia-old sculpture of his head made him shudder. Its brown and blue eyes matched the sage to perfection. But how, if this was that old? And why was it so hid away?

Upon finally exiting the temple, Edward and Kidd were met by the nighttime jungle, a still grouchy Ah Tabai, and another surprise. Both the assassins and the Jackdaw crew were captured by a Templar-funded excavation. With the blowpipe Kidd handed Edward just then, however, the pirate captain managed to set free several of the prisoners without taking many lives. After he made sure _each_ crewman was alive and well, Kidd pointed out a Mr. Laurence Prins escaping in a frigate. It turned out the slaver had brought the soldiers to Tulum, and had apparently been a slippery target for years.

Edward paid no mind to Kidd's assassination business, and instead sensed Ah Tabai approaching in time to turn and point out, "By God, you bravos are a cheery bunch, eh? All frowns and furrowed brows."

"Captain Kenway. You have remarkable skills," Ah Tabai answered.

 _About time I've received acclaim_ , "Thanks, mate. It comes natural," he replied, taking full advantage of the praise.

The master assassin went on sternly, "But you are churlish and arrogant, prancing around in a uniform that you have not earned."

 _I've remarkable skills, right? You lot practically need someone of the likes of me._ "Everything is permitted. Isn't that your motto?"

"I absolve you of your errors in Havana and elsewhere." _That's a start._ "But you are not welcome here."

The mentor walked away, as venomous as ever. Kidd seemed somewhat more forgiving, thankfully, "Sorry, mate. Wish it were otherwise. But ye do deserve scorn, Edward. Prancin' about like one o' us. Bringin' shame to our cause," he replied stiffly. _The title of mentor really is suitable. He even_ scolds _like Ah Tabai. "Prancing about", eh? I'm no little boy, Kidd._

Edward felt a pang of guilt that was heavier than necessary. "And what is that? Your cause?" he barked, only causing himself feel darker.

"To be blunt…" he unleashed his wristblade, "we kill people. Templars an' their associates. Folks who'd like to control all the empires on earth, claimin' it's in the name o' peace an' order."

 _I've heard that before…_ "Sounds like Du Casse's dying words."

"Ye see? It's about power, really. About _lordin'_ o'er people. Robbin' us o' liberty."

Just then, a messenger pigeon flew into the coop. "That another message from one of your friends?" Edward questioned.

 _More surprises?_ "Aye. I'll show ye." Kidd smirked, finally. Just about the first time he lightened up this whole blasted trip. "I know ye ain't exactly impress'd by our creed. So would the sight o' money make you more friendly to our ways?"

Edward lifted his head in increasing approval. "As ever."

"Then work these contracts 'round the West Indies fer us, and we'll pay ye. As simple as 'at."

"A sort of truce, then?"

"View it in that light if ye like," Kidd gave a slight nod and suggested, "I'll be retirin' now to the huts. Care to join us in our recuperatin'? I advise ye not to expect a warm welcome, however."

"Ah, I'll have to pass. I've my own bunch to gather again as well," he kindly declined.

"Eh, figur'd as much. 'Til next we meet, then, Edward."

The blonde nodded in acknowledgement, all the while not sure how he was feeling about the events of the day.

* * *

Back in the Jackdaw, Adéwale and the crew met their captain with one of their usual celebrations: drinking, dancing, arm wrestling, and music. Something a little different this time around, one crewmember was displaying his tattoo while others were showing off pieces of jewelry.

Left and right, Edward was met with thanks and praise for liberating them from the soldiers earlier that evening.

"'Ere's to our kind cap'n, eh?" shouted a man Edward recognized as a crewman named Thomas, holding up a tin brimming with rum.

"Hear hear!" The rest of the crew cheered, raising their own tins.

"Now, now lads. I'm no captain without a crew to bully and push over." Edward grinned dryly as they wheezed in drunken laughter, "Benjamin! Pierre!" he yelled to the musicians, "Put on Cap'n Kidd, would you kindly? I've a craving for the tune."

Not long after, the people on board shared all kinds of stories ranging from childhood memories to hunting feats. All around, men were enjoying life as pirates.

"Oi, Cap'n Kenway! 'Ow were life before piratin'?" Thomas eagerly asked.

Edward had hoped they wouldn't interrogate him on his private life. He preferred putting off discussing his personal affairs for his closer mates, "I was a privateer, like you all". He met eyes with Adéwale, sealing the silent deal between them that the quartermaster would help create a distraction if ever the crew pried too far. The darker man nodded in recognition of their agreement.

"Before that, even," uttered an Italian crewman named Antonio.

Edward didn't have a chance to answer, and Adéwale didn't need to create a distraction, as one of the crew members shouted out, "Ahoy there, lass!"

All those present under deck turned to the guest, one of the female assassins who had seemingly tagged along with a crewman. "Ahoy there yourself," she responded pleasantly. Her hood was down, revealing her dark wavy hair. The crew started to flock around her, some superstitious ones expressing worry about having a woman on board and some ogling shamelessly.

Edward took the chance to sneak out to the main deck. As he latched the door, he gazed at the woman wearing white and red that matched her bold lip color, and he, too, was taken with her charm. _The lad that brought her on board knows his stuff_ , he thought briefly. Standing on deck and looking toward the ruins of Tulum, he observed a bright fire where Kidd was, in all likelihood, smiling and having as much fun with his own band of mates. And he felt dismal and delighted at the thought.

Making his way into the captain's cabin, Edward stripped off his garb, wiped off his eyeliner, and slipped into bed.

* * *

"Oi! Jim!" Edward began to grin, but immediately suppressed it. Kidd was lying down on the beach Edward had arrived in the day before. The boy got up as the blonde pirate inched towards him.

"Ah, Edward! Swell to see ye 'aven't been driven off the island."

"I'd like to stay for a while longer. And as long as I don't stir up more inconveniences, there should be no reason for Sir Face-Tattoos to seek me out."

"That so? What's keepin' ye 'ere?"

"You-," he interrupted himself, "Your _assassin_ order is something any man would want to know more of. What got ya hooked, Jim?"

Kidd scoffed, "It's s'prisin' that ye'd rather investigate another man's allegiance than question yer _own_ … Or jus' go off lookin' for more _coin_ while yer here!" he chuckled as he started towards the jungles, "Come along, mate. I'll show ye around without botherin' the mentor. We'll talk in the meantime."

Edward simpered playfully, "But an order of _assassins_? What _have_ ya gotten yourself into, mate?"

Kidd matched his smile, but answered more seriously as they slowly headed away from the shore, "Well, they give me a place to belong. Some'n to follow an' blieve in. I can't simply lay about. Got to make _some'n_ o' me life.I find it by protectin' the peace. Doin' a service to the world. ¿Comprendes?"

 _That last bit wasn't English, was it?_ "Hmm. But what of the way of pirates?"

"O' course, I can be a pirate as well, Edward!"

Edward made a sour expression and tightened his lips. How could these people take away Kidd's undivided attention to plundering? But he didn't dare argue against it to the boy. "So, how's it like, being an Assassin?"

"It don't change too much, but it _feels_ quite foreign. The biggest lifestyle adjus'ment's perhaps bein' _assign'd_ missions that actually puts an end to someone's life. I used to kill only when me life was in peril. An', before now, I wouldn't know much about who I was finishin' off", Kidd stopped in his tracks faced Edward head-on, "Ye've been in with the Templars. Ye've walk'd amongst our people, albeit as an outsider. What're yer thoughts 'bout it all?"

"That I wouldn't want any part of it. I've my own plans, as you know-"

"WATCH IT KENWAY," Kidd shouted as a jaguar lashed out at it. The boy lunged at it with his wristblade flicked out, effectively putting the predator at rest. He then swiftly and skillfully skinned the animal.

"Why skin it, Jim?"

"Don't see a reason not to. Might as well make use o' what's left."

Edward remained startled but impressed as Kidd carried on with their walk and conversation, "But the observat'ry, eh? Gain a fortune an' win back yer wife who left ye, that's it? That's 'ow yer makin' some'n o' _yer_ life?"

Edward raised his gaze to the sky, forgetting the jaguar and envisioning the glory the legendary place would earn him. "Aye. Riches at my reach, mate! RICHES! _That's_ the life for a man." _But… even then, something would be missing, wouldn't it? Likely because I have to show it off once I've earned it. Not just to Caroline. Kidd should also be impressed. All the while, however, he's the one person I can't speak to of the observatory, since he's part of the people who_ need _it for their war for world peace against the Templars. Damn…_

"Z'at so? An' why would the observat'ry give ye riches?"

"Quit playin' me, Jim. Ya know prolly more than I do how unimaginable the wealth is!" _Perhaps because you think you will get to it before I do… Well, it's certainly possible that Kidd became an assassin to gain insider information on finding the observatory, ain't it? But… No. We already knew that the way to get to the observatory was through Roberts. Er, that's not right either, is it? To know just why Kidd associated himself with the Assassin order, I must know when Kidd joined these assassins._

"I'm merely attemptin' figurin' out 'ow that head of yers werks," Kidd smiled a greeting to a passing assassin.

"Me head is of no importance. When did ya join this order of yours again, Jim?"

Kidd shrugged, "When I joined's o' no importance."

Edward gave the boy what he hoped was a cold look, but the boy kept a straight face to compete with it. _Well, turning it over in my mind more,, I reckon that he must have joined before I acquired the Jackdaw, and that's all I really must know. There was no need in asking, after all._

Edward sighed and mused, "How shall I get to the observatory?"

Kidd answered to that, "Well, ye already know that. All ye go'a do is capture Roberts again. Jus' like-"

"Jus' like _wee_ -ah," Edward interrupted in a high-pitched voice, continuing sharply, "Is that right? Aye, I'm well aware."

"So," Kidd smirked and crossed his arms at Edward's childish behavior as the kept stepping over patches of grass, "Yer truly aimin' to be an enemy now, are ye?" By now, they had practically retraced Edward's steps from the day before, went past the area the ruins were in, and ended up on the other beach.

"Not quite. I'm a pirate, Kidd! Neither Templar, Assassin, privateer, nor soldier. I take no side save _my own!_ " Edward swiftly motioned to his docked Jackdaw; its black jolly roger flag, to be precise. " _You_ should know the feeling, mate! You're still a pirate, are you not?"

The bandana-donning boy added a laugh to his charming pose and kept his eyes on the sea, thinking for a few moments as Edward ceased his outburst and quieted himself. The blonde waited patiently for an answer or _some_ spoken reaction out of Kidd. But the boy crouched onto the sand and lay down, his hazel eyes shutting.

" _Now_ what are ya doin', Jim?"

"Take it easy, Edward. Feel the sun shinin' down on that handsome scarred face o' yers. Enjoy the rhythm of the waves", he took in a breath, "An' quit yer frenzy o'er the observat'ry. Least fer now. Perhaps it'd help ye sort yer life."

Kidd didn't see the blonde's puzzled expression, "What the devil are ya saying, mate? I could say just the same to you. 'Relax!'" You're _the one that's far too serious! Joining an order of assassins!_ The boy ignored him. _…He's not kidding._

"Jus' _try_ it, mate. Or do ye not trus' me? Per'aps yer not the adventurous type as I thought."

After a second, Edward puffed out a sigh, "This isn't my style really- I prefer something more extravagant, but," he gave a pause before continuing on in a voice laced with Kidd's accent, "I s'pose I'll give it a go. Some'n a li'l different to spice up me life, eh?"

"Stop pretendin' ye don't wan'a do it. Ye need to try some'n new often." _Here's an opportunity to see how much he sleeps around._ "Some'n besides a new _lady_ every week." _Will Edward fall for that?_ , he wondered.

Edward stopped in the middle of lying down and narrowed his eyes. "What else do ya know about my private life that you're hiding?"

"Well, looks like he fell fer it. Kenway _does_ sleep around," he grinned.

"Hell. Sneaky ain't ya?" mumbled Edward guiltily as he finished pressing his back to the sand. Finding his ponytail was inconveniencing him as he shifted his head about the sand, he tugged off his hairtie and gruffly threw it aside.

Kidd chuckled all the while. "I'm a bloody assassin after all. Alright, let's both shut up an' relax, eh?"

Edward did as he was told and remained silent. He was thankful for a palm tree leaf that shaded their eyes from the warm sun.

The only sounds were the rising and falling of the water against the sand and the mild wind Edward felt brushing the skin not covered by his bulky outfit. Kidd had a good point; Edward wasn't expecting it to be this pleasant. _Especially with Kidd right next to me._

He turned his head to the left, where Kidd lay, and saw that the younger man was looking right at him. "It is a good life we lead, Edward. The best?"

The pirate took a thoughtful deep breath as he felt a slight rush of some sort, "I'm not quite confident about that, Jim."

"Edward Kenway ain't confident? What could've done this to 'im?" Kidd paused, "Or is that wanin' of self-possession comin' from _inside_ of 'im?"

"Whatever gave society reason to believe I was confident in the first place?"

"Yer blind if ye can't see the cockiness ye give off at times. Don'tche know 'bout the reputation yer buildin'?"

"'Old it, man. Is this 'reputation' of mine tossed amongst your hooded mates? Them Templar fellows? Pirates? …Or the West Indies in general?"

"Eh, mostly 'mong pirates, mate. But it won't be long 'til the name 'Edward Kenway' elicits wimpers from most grown men'n general if ye keep up yer act."

Edward shrugged and lifted his head to gaze the horizon. "Aw Jaysus! The sun's beginnin' to dive. Ya think it's 'bout time to get back for a bite?"

Their stomachs growled in unison. Kidd responded with a grin, "A brilliant idea, mate. I think me 'crew' wouldn't mind makin' merry with yers. It's _you_ they've got issues with, not them. I bet I could convince the Assassins to join the Jackdaw crew for a gatherin' long as yer underlin's don't pry on our business. What do ye say?"

"If I can join and you have Ah Tabai's approval, I say it's a fine plan."

"Then let's meet at this beach. A bonfire'll be prepar'd. Fair 'nuff?"

"Aye. Lovely."

The bandana-donning boy jumped up and brushed the sand off his costume before lending a hand to Edward.

"Yer hair," the boy pointed out Edward's loose blonde hair.

"Aye. It's starting to get particularly hot and humid, and my mane's pasted to my neck like glue."

Kidd picked up and handed Edward his hairtie. The pirate captain took it and shoddily wrapped the strands in it.

"Not like that," Kidd directed him lightheartedly, "Give it 'ere, mate."

"Jim? What in God-," before he was able to finish, Kidd had tugged the slick locks back. After a couple more uncomfortable twists and pulls, the dark-haired boy had them tied up. Edward's hair draped his face and flowed across a shoulder.

"Do that when ye've wash'd it thoroughly, an' ye'll be turnin' 'eads- moreso than ye must already," Kidd suggested with a single pat on Edward's shoulder. The blonde wondered what the boy's words and actions meant as they parted ways for the moment.

* * *

Pirates and Assassins associated at a meal held not an hour later. The pirates, knowing their captain wouldn't accept them badgering the hooded men and women about what it is they did and why they wore such uniforms, held their tongues regarding the matter. Edward kept aloof and stayed mostly with Adéwale and Kidd, both of whom appeared to be popular with _both_ parties, but Kidd in particular was approached from people of both groups. Assassins looked to him as a brother while pirates acknowledged the reputation the boy made for himself despite, or perhaps because of, his age. Tales were told and drinks were poured, though most of the assassins turned down the latter. At one point, a friendly sparring match was held, cutlasses against wristblades, with no one in particular winning. As the festivities dwindled down, Edward and Kidd separated themselves from the group and walked off into the nighttime jungle, stars illuminating their view.

"I've nearly fergo'en to ask, Edward," Kidd started, "'Ow's our mates? Been ages since Vane an' I've crossed paths."

 _Why Vane specifically?_ "They're all fine- Thatch, Hornigold, and Vane should be farin' well, though I haven't encountered Vane in what seems like years. Prolly _has_ been years. I suppose even _Bonnet's_ finding success, the chap," Edward tightened his lips in a sort-of smile before realizing something, "You're not familiar with Bonnet, are ya?"

"Stede Bonnet? We're 'cquainted. He's become a full-fledged pirate now."

"That right?"

"So I've 'eard."

"No kidding," Edward thought over the almost naïvely amiable merchant he met in Cape Bonavista. He ran his hand over the fabric he snatched from Duncan Walpole's body that day, glad for the progress his friend was making now, and contemplated his own progress.

Kidd climbed one of the thicker trees and went on, "The man prolly 'as much more to learn, but I believe he'll find success in time."

"Ya believe in the man?" Edward asked from below, leaning against the trunk.

Kidd lied down on a thick branch, "Well, the man's got different ways than ourselves an' our mates, an' that's what makes him rather interestin'. No one's expectin' a man like 'im to be a pirate. Like a secret weapon, I s'pose?"

"Aye," Edward nodded a nod Kidd didn't see, "And _me_. Do I have potential?"

"Always thinkin' fer yerself an' _about_ yerself, eh cap'n Kenway?" Kidd asked back tauntingly, "But I'm happy yer thinkin' 'bout the significant areas o' life. If yer merely _thinkin_ ' about yer petential, I'd say that's a definite sign ye've got a potential."

Edward was impressed. _How could he be so serious yet so free and easy? Wise yet playful? It's rather… attractive._ Edward's voice had more promise to it as he asked, "What else do ya think?"

"I imagine that Edward can be a better man than he is now. If he weren't so selfish an' greedy, who knows? He'd make a positive difference not only in the lives o' others, but in 'imslef as well." Again, for the first time in longer than he would like to admit, Edward felt very much appreciated.

"Go on, Jim," Edward clambered up the branches, not quite as graceful as Kidd could, and seated himself beside his friend, "What do ya think of me on a _personal_ level?"

It was a while before Kidd answered, "Where's this comin' from, Edward?" he raised an eyebrow but continued, "I think yer a promisin' man despi'e yer vices. Ye've go' talent an' a good heart. An' it's rather amazin'- yer commitment to yer wife, I mean. Even if ye sleep aroun', a primary reason yer even _in_ the West Indies is to regain 'er respect, ain't it?"

The boy seemed to smile almost flirtatiously. But Edward knew this couldn't be the case. _It's not about Caroline, really._ Edwardsmiled fondly. "Caroline's respect? I'd like others to believe it, and it's true, but," he opened up, "I'm here primarily for the loot. My aim for Caroline's respect stems from that I suppose," he took a tired breath, "And how'd you figure why it is I'm here in the West Indies?"

Kidd shrugged knowingly and hopped to the ground, rolling smoothly to lessen the impact. He then looked up at Edward and watched the man hang from the branch for a few seconds before dropping to the ground with a grunt.

With a chuckle, Kidd spoke again, "Such poise, Edward. Ye'd make a fine Assassin."

"No thanks, Jim," he dodged the suggestion, "You're rather flowing over with compliments tonight, it seems. It feels," he paused, "satisfying. Tell me about _yourself_ , now?"

"What more is there to know? I'm a pirate who's an assassin as well."

"Well, what is it that _you_ live for?" Edward probed.

"Why don' _you_ tell me, mate?" Kidd responded posingly, crossing his arms and smirking.

"Awright. Ya live to fulfill this creed of yours," the blonde pirate guessed, amused at Kidd's pose, "Ya hope to improve the lives of those around ya in doing so?"

"See? Put that 'ead o' yers to work an' ye can figure it all out. No need to ask _me_." He started to head back towards the beach.

Edward caught him on the shoulder, causing the boy to look back, "What it is ya do- rather, _aspire_ to do," he began, "Maybe even simply _do_ \- no aspiring… How do ya do it?"

"It comes natural. I do what feels right an' satisfyin'," he responded practically, leading Edward around the jungle again, feeling their conversation wasn't over yet.

" _What's right"? What_ is _right?_ "So gaining coin makes ya satisfied, surely?"

"That's what gets that greedy mind o' yers temporarily satisfied. As fer me, o' _course_ the means to 'ave the worldly goods I need is some'n I'd appreciate as well, but it's not completely fulfillin' 'til I know I've done some'n worthwhile- made me _mark_ on the world, ye see?"

Edward still didn't understand why and how Kidd could be so considerate, but he considered that what the lad was saying was over his head, causing the blonde to feel almost inferior to the younger yet wiser pirate. Yet, he could not find it in himself to resent the lad for being better than him.

Kidd continued, "So the observat'ry- ye still believe ye'll be completely sa'isfied if ye only grab a fortune?"

"Ya know it, as well Kidd; I can't let these years of chasing me dream go to waste. I shouldn't distract myself with other people; I must keep my eyes on the _observatory_. If I earn myself enough, it won't be a waste of me time."

"When _is_ enough, Edward? When yer wife takes ye back jus' fer the money an' prestige? 'Sides, it won't be a waste if ye've done some'n fer someone 'sides yerself. _Trust_ me, mate," Kidd was rather firm, but he remained as encouraging as he usually was.

The pirates at last found themselves on the beach once again, where Kidd gazed brightly at the crescent moon and the shimmer the stars cast on the sea. At the same time, Edward shot his gaze towards the boy himself. He took in Kidd's almost feminine features, such as his flawlessly shaped nose and alluring lips. His hazel eyes appeared especially intense and longing as he watched the scene. Edward hoped the assassin hadn't noticed how fiercely he was, putting it bluntly, checking him out.

 _This is wrong. Even if I wasn't married, I don't_ swing _that way; especially not with underaged lads almost a_ decade _my junior. How could I- how_ dare _I think this way! What would the_ others _think of me? Caroline would never accept me again if she knew how I've been feeling. And Kidd- he'd be_ especially _disappointed with me if he doesn't feel the same way. There have been moments when he appeared to be making advances, but I doubt he was seriously being suggestive. But_ , Edward considered, _it will come out sooner or later_. _And if everything is permitted…_

"Er, Jim," he started hesitantly, "There's some'n I'd like to get off me chest."

"Aye. Yer pistols weighin' ye down, perhaps?" he grinned, "Well?"

"Well, I-…. W-would-! Well… You're…," he faltered uncomfortably, blue eyes cast to the side.

Kidd raised an eyebrow, crossed, his arms, and smiled, "Edward Kenway- a strappin', fetchin', _married_ , and seemingly _heterosexual_ pirate- spellbound by a lad. I'm flattered."

Edward felt adrenaline rush through him like a drug as he fidgeted, latching and unlatching his hidden blades, "I-! Well, aye. I'm fond of ya," it felt incredibly peculiar, confessing his romantic attraction to a male teenager, "But, again, how did ya know?"

Kidd began to walk around nonchalantly, "Ahhh, so ye _were_ goin' to tell me ye felt fluttery fer me? Well, it was wri'en all o'er ye anyway. We _are_ rather close mates by now. But, even fer close mates, yer all smiles when I'm aroun' ye. When I compliment ye, ye seem to think yer invincible. An' ye can't seem to take yer eyes off me at times."

"W-well, ya must be looking at me now and then to know _that_. Here I was thinking you were captivated by the landscape!" he tried changing the topic, but was interrupted by Kidd's chuckling, a hint of pity tinting the laughter, and growing slightly louder as the seconds passed,

Edward's face grew warm, and he found he couldn't look at the boy directly. Turning his head away, he said in shame, "Now ya know I think that way. Doesn't change much else, though. Got that? An' keep it to yourself, Jim."

Kidd looked up with a smile, his face also red, though most likely from his laughter. "Or?"

Edward groaned, his mind failing him, "Gah! Flames. What am I-", the pirate realized the predicament he got himself into, and turned away again to mutter profanity.

As Kidd's snickering died down, he laid a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder and looked him in the eye. He continued in a less teasing demeanor, "I'm honor'd to hear it, truly. Know that yer a dear mate. _Think it o_ _'_ _er_ , ye hear?" With a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder, Kidd left Edward alone. After allowing himself an embarrassed minute to comprehend what he'd done, the pirate darted toward the Jackdaw.

"Why de rush, captain?" Adéwale, dutifully checking the cannons, asked Edward as he hurried aboard his ship.

"Gather up the crew, Adé. We're sailing _far_ away from here."

* * *

School Rant: Some time ago, I took the AP European History course and exam. I signed up for the course expecting _social_ studiesto be its focus, not rulers and how they controlled their money. I found social patterns (ex. literacy rates) quite interesting, but had trouble remembering the large amount of info on it. It seems that, with my focus on studying politics and economics to counter the lesser interest I had for it, I did not concentrate enough on the portions of the material about overall social patterns. On the exam, there were many questions on these patterns. …Let's just say I had trouble answering the majority of the AP exam (though I passed with a 3).They should change the course/exam title to "AP European Politics, Economics, and Some Cultural History."

How does this tie in to AC4? While I was getting into the series after playing AC2 and exploring the fandom, I noticed how many people, even people from Ubisoft itself, don't really consider how _low_ the literacy rate was back then, especially compared to those from today. According to one source, the literacy rate among English _men_ in the 1600s was **30%** (no statistics on women). From 1700 to 1800, literacy in England (men and women) rose from **45** **%** to **63** **%**! According to Wikipedia, **84.1%** of the world can read and write today. As of today, **99%** of people in the UK are literate, as it is in the US. Check out what the literacy rate is in your country and be proud of yourself (in any case) for being able to read (in English, to add! The reputed "hardest to learn language".) And feel especially proud if English isn't your first language.

P.S. I hope my characterization is fine...


	4. Part 1, Chapter 3

_Part I, Chapter 3 - May, 1716_

After gathering all the crewmen, and after they were a good few nautical miles away from Tulum, Edward held a crew vote for their next destination, "Awright, lads! To where shall we venture next?" The sailors responded with a variety of places, some even requesting to return to Tulum, but Edward mostly heard shouts for "Havana!"

"I'm hearin' Havana. Cry out if you're in agreement!"

A good many crewmen shouted affirmatively.

"To the Spanish town it is, then! Full sail!" Edward was glad to get out of the situation he got himself into just before leaving. He could use a drink from a quality tavern, and Havana was just the place. Putting on a determined smile, the captain began working out the response he would give if anyone questioned their sudden departure from Tulum.

* * *

In lively Havana, Edward Kenway and his crew scattered in search of shops and fun. Naturally, anticipating good rum for nearly a day and a half, the captain headed straight for the tavern. _Ah, hell. I can't drink here without thinking of Bonnet_ , he thought as he saw the _I wonder how he is as a pirate, as Kidd told me_. He winced upon thinking about his last encounter with the bandana-donning boy. _Gah, where's the counter? I need a damned drink, pray I don't bump into someone and start a fistfight, don't bloody need one now. That's how I met Kidd- Gah!_

A more squiffy captain walked about the docks with a bottle of rum in hand, hoping to find solitude as he tried to distract himself from his plight. It was nighttime once more, and the Jackdaw was void of sailors, save a few guarding the goods under deck.

She appeared as stern and strong as ever while she gently rocked in harmony with the waves. Edward clambered onto the familiar wood, punching the cannons as he staggered to the helm.

"Oi, Jackie," he rested his chin on the wheel, "You're a lass- someone who knows how to cope with these _feeeelings_ , you're one-a trusst, mm?" he drawled, "Damnin' hell. Whuddo I know anymore?" he whispered. While scanning the city and the docks, he spoke to the boat, "Jackie, yaknowwhat? Yer prettier than _aaaawll_ the rest of 'em. I have no use for anyone else, even _bloody Kidd_!" Edward laughed and took a swig of rum, some spilling onto him, "Ya see that one over there? The schooner? You're _twice_ as fetchin', Miss Jackie. Don't leave me. Ever. Ya hear?" Edward narrowed his eyes at the schooner, trying to get a better glimpse at it. He gave up and used his spyglass, "Jaysus, wouldn'tya knowit? It's _Bonnet_ , the old fellow, in the schooner! I thought I'd sailed that one before! Till next I board, Jackie." The ship creaked in reply as Edward attempted jumped down to the docks and rushed over to his mate with as least staggering as possible.

"'Eyo Bonnet!" he swayed, welcoming the bigger man.

"My word! It's Edward! You seem… rather tipsy, eh?" He pat Edward on the arm to complement his greeting and to provide support for the wobbling man.

"Aye. Suave!"

"You're suave," Bonnet agreed uncertainly.

"Suaave eyepatch ya got there, mate!" Edward announced broadly, pointing into Bonnet's eye.

"Aye, well, if I'm to be a pirate, I might as well look the part! Your observation is appreciated," Bonnet smiled agreeably, "Shall we sit?" He took Edward's bottle from his hand and sat on a familiar bench by the docks.

"Yawouldn't _belieeeve_ , Bonnet," Edwarddrawled, "It was sooo embarrasin'!"

"O-oh dear! Exactly what, friend?" Bonnet asked.

"Let's not gothere, mate. But it was reallyvery horrible and _fascinatin_ '. It mostly started in Great Inagua…"

Bonnet kept Edward's drink while the latter filled him in on happened the past few months, and, as luck would have it, the drunk spared the details concerning Kidd. After several more minutes, the Jackdaw's captain appeared to have a much clearer head, "Oi. Oi, Bonnet. Have ya seen a bottle of rum 'round here? Curse me if I hadn't bought some an hour or so ago," he wearily peered behind him and under the table.

"Ah well, I prefer we talk without the liquor, but, uh, here," Bonnet handed the bottle to his fellow pirate.

Edward sighed, "No, that _is_ more rational."he complied and pushed the bottle to the side, "Now, how is piratin', mate?" He swung his feet onto the table and leaned against a barrel behind him.

"It's quite a business," Bonnet replied, "But I'm making a profit! Slowly but surely" he chuckled and placed his legs on the table as well, but, having nothing to support his back, leaned forward against his legs, stretching them awkwardly. It didn't look comfortable, but the bigger man went on, "It's quite the adventure, the pirating business. I have more stories to tell my kids! They love listening to me- even beg me to take them along at times!"

 _Kids?_ Edward briefly recalled Kidd telling him to hide his marriage, before shoving that thought out of his mind, "Ah, the kids. Do they fare well?" He made no mention of Kidd's family advice to the novice pirate.

Bonnet appeared cramped and confused, "Of course I say my goodbyes when I leave." Passersby looked curiously at the way Bonnet sat.

"Jaysus, Bonnet. Get off the table," Edward whispered a bit too forbiddingly.

"Sorry, my apologies," Bonnet nodded and sat upright, "May I have a bit of rum?" He took out a glass from a pouch on his waist and placed it daintily where his feet had been.

Edward narrowed his eyes, "Awright, Bonnet. You're actin' stranger than I do when I'm sloshed. What's troublin' ya?"

"Nothing, of course! I'm a rugged pirate after all!" Bonnet pointed to his eyepatch.

 _So that's why_ … Edward snorted and shook his head, "Bonnet, I'll show ya how to be a _real_ pirate."

* * *

"Ya see 'em there in yellow?" Edward pointed to several Spanish guards policing a warehouse entrance. He and Bonnet were tucked away in some shrubbery not too far from said entrance.

"Ah, yes. Yes," Bonnet acknowledged the guards.

"You're to distract 'em so I can get in there and snatch our take," Edward instructed, "Like pirates. I acquired the key to the warehouse, and you'll use it for your distraction. Why not simply use the key to unlock the place, you ask? All will be explained. Now, in the meanwhile, I'll be walking down this path along here," he motioned to the populated street just outside their hiding spot, "And while you flee, you'll shove me and hand me back the keys while doing so. I'll take off with the loot while you deal with them. Teamwork, wouldn't you say?"

"Brilliant! Very thrilling," Bonnet grinned.

"Aye, wonderful. Whenever you're ready, Bonnet." Edward waited for the man to do as he said before blending in with the street.

Bonnet waited too, "Ah? Well, h-how do I get their attention?"

 _Must I spell_ _this out_ _?_ , Edward sighed, "Do something suspicious- no felonies, of course. Show them the key once they notice you. Perhaps step too close to the warehouse for their liking. Make it seem ya want to get the booty inside. Then run away- fast as ya can- when you've got their attention. Not all of them will be rushing after ya. I'll deal with the ones who stay."

"Ah, quite! I shall do _just_ that."

The bigger man stepped out of the greenery and immediately caught the guards' attention. _Damn, Bonnet._ Edward got up from his crouch and walked with a passing crowd, blending in seamlessly. Bonnet walked right up to the guards, and was shoved away with warnings in unfriendly Spanish.

Edward looked on anxiously as the other pirate started waddling quickly toward the street, key in hand. The guards seemed convinced of his suspicions, as they also darted in that direction. Just as Edward told him, Bonnet shoved him strongly out of his way, but he tossed the keys in the air, risking their being seen. Edward deftly swiped them as he raised his arms "defensively" and fell down. It was rather effective, as one guard said a hasty " _Lo siento, señor"_ to the fallen man.

 _We managed. Rather,_ I _managed_ , he thought as he moved toward the side of the warehouse. He easily silenced the last two Spaniards watching over the door and masterfully unlocked his way to the goods. There was at _least_ 5,000 reales worth of cotton, sugar, rum, and other stock inside.

He motioned to some Jackdaw crew members hiding in numerous places eye's distance away to make off with the loot.

* * *

A few minutes later, Bonnet had made a full loop back to the now-empty warehouse, where Edward and his crew were nearly done ransacking the unguarded building. The captain watched his stumbling friend, now sporting a swollen cheek, torn clothing, and a Spanish fanbase. Edward sighed and reached for his cutlasses. He finished the guards off with a few slashes of his swords and a couple stabs with his hidden blades.

 _Hidden blades… Assassins…_

While he looted the guards' pockets, Bonnet huffed and wheezed, "Perhaps. I'm not fit. For the physical aspect. Of pirating," he panted and loosened his cravat, "But, eh, I suppose. This was. Well worth it. Ah. Hah. _Whoooo_ -wee! What did you uncover?"

Edward threw him a pouch containing a little over 1,000 reales, "Your share, Bonnet. 'Twas a success! But your cheek…," he felt his own rough, scarred cheek.

Bonnet regained his breath, "A success in any case! I can't believe it!" he peered into the warehouse while feeling the weight of the pouch and storing it in his belt. Edward noticed how the fine leather with its gold buckle likely cost more than _twice_ the amount in the pouch. It was a rather strange thing to note in the first place, he noted, but something was off about the situation.

"Oi, Bonnet."

"Yes? Aye?" His eyes were as wide as they could go, given his injury.

"Why would you want to be a pirate at all? Why? You've _already_ got wealth, health, property, a wife, a fair reputation… What could be missing?"

Bonnet himself looked curious as he felt his swollen cheek, "I would sum it up to be, I don't know, _adventure_. I already have the things a man of… _lesser means_ would want, as you say," he looked to the ground with a wistful smile, "However, what sets me apart from someone who's made his own money throughout his lifetime is that the other has had a different experience- a more fulfilling one, in my opinion"

 _Fulfilling? I've been hearing that word far too much_ , thought Edward.

"I had not had a taste of a poorer man's life, and I was craving a more… exhilarating one. Pirates have that sort of living- a jolly good time to a lavish lifestyle," he looked Edward in the eye, "And here I am, taking away from you that which _I_ desire to have! How inconsiderate."

Edward kept silent. That was what Bonnet was after? _Adventure_? Wealth was a fabulous adventure in itself! He looked Bonnet up and down, taking in just how prosperous the man was. Was it unfitting to have given him the role of decoy? Ridiculous. Ridiculous, both Bonnet needing a thrill, and thinking it was wrong to make him a decoy. Someone with Bonnet's success would never have a lack of adventure, would they? On the other hand, Edward _was_ teaching the man how to properly plunder and how to survive among the ruthless. Bonnet needed to learn of their ways if he was to call himself one of them. It wasn't wrong to make Bonnet decoy- there was no need for Edward to take responsibility for what he had _indirectly_ done to Bonnet regarding the injury.

"An interesting take, mate," he nodded emptily and suggested, "Keep at itand you'll have your pirate adventure."

"Aye, mate," he gave Edward a soft, simple rise of his lips, and looked back at him, "Now I, uh, must tend to this wound. We shall have our next adventure later, eh?"

Edward raised an arm and gave a slight tilt of the head in acknowledgement of their goodbye, "Till next we meet, Bonnet."

"Farewell, Edward. Despite this injury and all, that was splendid- I wouldn't have it another way," he grinned, and exposed a full set of white teeth that Edward, accustomed to seeing damaged, colored mouths, took notice of. Bonnet continued speaking as he headed for the coast, "I do hope we cross another's paths soon. Farewell!"

Edward gave his sidekick a taut smile and wandered away, pondering how to use up his loot.

* * *

 _January 1717_

He sat at the Old Avery Tavern, clutching a worn map, deep in thought about a bandana-donning boy he met there, once. Then two sarcastic voices pulled him out of his reverie…

"So this is the new libertalia, eh? Stinks the same as every other squat I've robbed this past year!" announced a dark-haired pirate with a hoarse voice. _Vane_. Edward almost didn't recognize his old friend, and Vane didn't seem to recognize him, either. The blonde gazed at the man he was talking to.

The grey-haired stranger detected Edward and spat, "Oi, oi! Why the long face?" Vane's friend wore a shirt that exposed his chest, and he flaunted it, " Ye fallin' in love?"

Edward smirked, "With your _blouse_." _Vane's as critical as ever- who's his trenchant fellow?_

He stood up and welcomed the two to Nassau, and was joined by another familiar face. Rather, they were greeted by a dramatic cluster of facial hair that reached well to the man's chest.

"Why fly a black flag when a black beard'll do?", Thatch challenged. Given that he was still set on managing the pirate republic with Hornigold, Edward should have known they would run into each other there in Nassau. Vane revealed that the two were in the area in order to ransack a nearby fort. A nearby fort in which Torres could be found.

"Torres, eh?" Edward thought aloud, "Sounds promising."

"Welcome to Nassau, Cap'n Vane, Mister Rackham," Thatch said as he handed them a mug of rum each. _So Thatch already knows of him, Rackham._

" _Vane 'n' Rackham"- their names flow together, like a fight move: Vane and rack 'em, mate._

Edward spotted an unimaginably gorgeous redhead sitting at a nearby table staring intently at Rackham, her eyes hooded and her legs crossed. Her dress revealed much of her bosom, but the pirate felt no craving about it, strangely enough. That left him more terrorized than La Dama Negra and El Impoluto would, combined. He sneaked away, set for some fort-conquering to get him back on track.

"Oi, Kenway!" Thatch yelled at the leaving man, "I know yer after that fort, but ye can't leave me with these goonies! 'Ow 'bout we entertain ya?"

"Christ, Thatch," Vane choked and coughed out some rum, "That's bloody Kenway?"

"Whut? Ya noticed just now?" Edward asked from the ground below.

Vane went on, "What in hell- so _that_ 's how ya look like now?"

 _What in hell is that supposed to mean?_ "If ya have a problem, Vane-"

"Ah, Edward Kenway?" Rackham joined in, "Hah! Not as I expected."

 _They think alike, don't they? Vane and Rackham?_ "I don't plan on lingering. If you've something to spit out beside rum, do so by all means."

"I've heard ya before," Rackham answered. _I suppose he means 'heard_ _ **of**_ _me',_ Edward supposed."Hang with us and impress us with your stories, would you?" He sniggered.

"Aye, Kenway," Thatch commented, "The gold can wait another hour. It ain't runnin' off!" he chuckled. _But_ Torres _will, and I've no wish for hanging just yet, Rackham_."We'll show Vane and Rackham what's changed around these parts. I might even help ye withat treasure map ya got! Har har!"

* * *

Edward found himself wondering if Kidd was already on Torres's trail as he strolled around Nassau with his mates. Thatch was chattering on about how pirates could live freely as affiliates of the Brethren of the Coast. Vane and Rackham glanced at each other from time to time, pleased at Thatch's ideas but unsure if the other wanted to be part of it. Eventually-

"Thatch! Ain't that Hornigold?!" Vane pointed at a man with sideburns off in the distance in the porch of a house. He was frowning and talking stiffly to a lady.

"Aye! An' stop bein' so surprised at people ya recognize. Don't ye know he's also one o' the founders o' our republic? Course ye'd find him 'round 'ere. Usually manages the area by talkin' to the citizens."

Rackham remembered the name and asked, "Oi, now. As in _Benjamin_ Hornigold? Didn't know he was so _serious_. Oof!" he shuddered to express his distaste, spilling a bit of rum from his mug.

"Hold that tongue, Jack!" Vane reprimanded, shoving his friend, "So he could loosen up, but he's alright," the four of them watched. The woman raised a hand to her mouth in surprise, while Hornigold rubbed the back of his head. Vane snorted, "Pft! Let's see what he's up tuh."

As the four of them approached the two, the woman briskly walked away from Hornigold and passed by them, a disturbed expression on her face, and her hands clasped together nervously. The four pirates stopped one by one, first turning their heads in her direction then looking back at Hornigold. He leaned an arm and his forehead against the wooden wall, and didn't seem to notice the other pirates nearing him.

"Ya soiled your breeches yet?" Edward spoke. He hadn't seen his friend in well over a year.

Hornigold looked to his side at them, his head still fixed on the wall. He did not appear pleased, "Kenway. Thatch. And Vane, I believe. Don't know _you_ ," he glanced at Rackham, "You all heard, I hope _not_."

"Saw, not heard," Thatch appeared tense, his lips pursed and eyebrows tight. He couldn't hold it in any longer and wheezed laughter, spitting out, "What in all your blasted brilliance was _that_? Who knew Benjamin Bloody Hornigold could be… _this_? Hah!"

"Burn in hell. _That_ was what you would call… rejection," Hornigold straightened up and… laughed. The other pirates joined in.

"Another night with your right hand, mate?" Rackham took Hornigold's hand, balled it up into a fist, and made a jerking gesture.

"Shite. Stop rubbing it in!" Hornigold pulled his fist away and gave Rackham as gentle an uppercut as he could with it. He realized the innuendo he himself made and shook his head, chuckling at himself. Rackham, despite his new injury, laughed along while rubbing his chin, "You're awright, Benny Boy."

Hornigold scoffed, still red and smiling, "So who in hell _are_ you and why are ya all here?" He sounded abashed at what happened despite his carefree appearance.

Vane leaned an elbow on Rackham's shoulder and introduced them, "This vigorous slug's Jack Rackham. We've arrived to make a fortune, ain't that a surprise. They say the Cuban gov'nor's fixing to receive a mess of gold in a nearby fort."

Hornigold narrowed his eyes slightly, "Torres?"

"Aye, aye. Now we find ourselves taking a damned tour with Thatch as our escort!"

"Well, I'll join you lot, then," they continued on with Hornigold joining the party, "How's the Ranger, Vane?"

"She still sails strong, of course."

"'Swell to see you take care of my gift."

Rackham intervened, "Oi. What's he goin' on about, Chahlie?"

Thatch commented, "Ya mean ye didn't know-"

A group of loudly giggling children ran past the pirates, washing out Thatch's remark.

"Ouch!" Out of the blue, a girl no older than 10 years old bumped straight into Vane- of all of them, the unfortunate thing. She backed off hastily, but neither this nor her trembling and terror-filled eyes stopped Vane from raising his voice and stretching out his arms in anger, "YA WANNA GET BLOODY KILLED, NINNY?!"

Vane's leg was cold-bloodedly poised to kick dirt on the girl when Thatch quite literally stepped in his way. The sparkling wicks on his hat were lit as he shoved Vane back and spoke in an inhuman voice, "Don't ye know that if a li'l girl runs into a pirate, they turn her into a stone mermaid and stick _'er on the front of their ship_?"

She screamed while scurrying away from the armed men, heading where the other children stood many meters away, wide-eyed and motionless.

"Damn, Thatch. What wa- _,_ " Vane demanded from the ground after the girl rejoined her friends. He sounded rather awed, despite the other man stealing his thunder.

" _Yer_ the _blasted_ ninny, Vane!" Thatched yelled, abandoning his devil persona. He took off the hat, wicks still aglow and whacked the man with it, "Learn to control yerself or ye'll be meetin' a fate far worse than that o' a girl that gets in the way o' a pirate."

"Aye, Aye," Vane said dismissively, "But that… that _guise_ o' yours!" his face lit up, "Terrifying and bloody _brilliant_! 'ow can I do-"

"Ye can ne'er handle Blackbeard, Vane," Thatch rebuked, putting out the wicks, "First, ya lack that eerie aura 'bout ye. An', Christ, ye'd be usin' him in the most _devil may care_ manner."

"But Blackbeard is the devil himself manifested, ain't he, Thatch? What cares would he give?" challenged Vane. The other three pirates watched, curious at their exchange.

Thatch shook his head and responded, "Someone o' the likes o' ye couldn't make sense o' _that_ , even. Let's get a move on. I'll finish showin' ya Nassau."

* * *

Not a week later, the Jackdaw rested at the docks of the fort Vane and Rackham tipped to Edward. Breaking down the pile of cobblestones was child's play. Soon enough, the pirate captain confronted the Cuban governor as the Spaniard sat comfortably in the commander's quarters, and he managed to extract long-awaited information on the Sage. Edward gathered that a slaver from Kingston, a Mr. Laurens Prins, was holding Roberts captive and was expecting a ransom from the Templars. Hence, the gold decorating the table Edward rested his bum on.

 _Laurens Prins? I've heard that name before_ , Edward thought over. It was the perfect opportunity to take the sage for _himself_ and get to the observatory. He successfully involved himself in the matter, "We like this story, Torres. And we want to help you finish it," he gentlemanly poured himself a cup of tea, "But we're going to do it our way. Using _you,_ _and_ your gold." He got up from leaning on the large table Torres sat at, and motioned to Adewalé and the rest of his crew to evacuate their newly-claimed fort.

 _To Kingston, then._

* * *

On Thatch- I tried keeping Stephen King's three types of fear in mind: gross-out, horror, and terror. VSauce has a great YouTube video on this: "Why Are Things Creepy?" It's likely some of you have watched it already. I wanted Thatch's Blackbeard persona to give off a terrific (not the good kind) kind of feeling. A supernatural creepiness, in contrast to a "reality kind of fear" ("like bats and knives" as Junpei from Persona 3 put it). Thatch mentions that he prefers to scare his enemies over ending their lives. (In 'Proper Defenses', "We'll save the clashing of cutlasses for the military and them that get in our way.") I tried to implement this with the girl- scare her off so that she doesn't come near and can't get hurt by his unruly pirate mates.

Casual fact: the phrase "devil may care" is suspected to have originated in the Golden Age of Piracy. I quote from Idiomation: "Idiomation believes the expression reaches at least back… to the 1720s. This is based on Idiomation's suspicions that the spirit of the idiom is a result of the Golden Age of Piracy (1715 – 1725) where on the High Seas pirates recklessly went about their business with no worry or concern as to any consequences resulting from their actions. The only being that might care about their actions would be, of course, the Devil: hence the expression."

P.S. I apologize (apologise, if you want to keep it British) to the real Stede Bonnet, Charles Vane, "Calico" Jack Rackham, Edward Thatch, Mary Read, and the rest of the actual cast for my (probably _heavily_ ) inaccurate portrayals of you all. I mean- I doubt Stede Bonnet was actually some naive noob-pirate. I'm basing these characters off the game (who, in turn, are loosely based on that one iffy pirate book A _General History of the Pyrates_ , which is, finally, based on the real people), but all the while, I can't help but feel bad.

Tell me if my humor doesn't make sense- sometimes I make it so abstract it turns out confusing and possibly awkward.

One last update: I will now update monthly.


	5. Part 1, Chapter 4

_Part I, Chapter 4 - April 1716_

Mary Read let her boots sink into the white sands of Tulum. The pirate was relieved to feel the sinking ground after weeks at sea.

"James!" one of the Assassins called out to her.

She smiled and waved, "S'been a while, eh?"

"I know you've just arrived, but the mentor wants to see you _right away_!"

 _He_ _'_ _s likely in a foul mood again._ _…_ _It must be about_ _ **that**_. "Z'at so? Right then- thanks."

Stepping into Ah Tabai's personal hut, she kneeled and bowed to her mentor. But the master Assassin demanded, "Explain yourself, Mary. There is no need for formalities." He took from beneath his table a letter she had sent him several weeks earlier, and he held it up.

Still kneeling, she prepared to deliver the speech she had composed on the way to the hut, but Ah Tabai, whose patience had visibly worn since Mary last saw him, read the letter aloud formally, "I have located Captain Edward Kenway, the man who posed as Duncan Walpole and selfishly carried out the traitor's final act betrayal. With full grasp that this is man who handed the map detailing our encampments to the Templars, indirectly causing the slaughter of our associates in Havana, I humbly ask that all plans to execute Kenway be ceased, as I will handle this task. The responsibility is mine. Your loyal and grateful colleague, Mary Read," Ah Tabai finished reading and asked, "How does it go, now that you have handled Captain Kenway?"

"Edward lives," she started, continuing despite her mentor's deepening frown, "He's a fellow pirate, an' I know 'im close. A smart, tough lad. Ruthless too, if need be. 'ell- the man could an' _would_ easily rid those ye send after 'im. I asked to handle 'im personally fer this reason."

He took a deep, composing breath, "Is that all?"

"Mmm…" she lingered, "Moreo'er, I don't know if I could fergive meself if me mate were to be kill'd by our own doing."

The tan man scoffed, "And you _let_ him go? The man took down several of our most skilled and principled men and women! You say yourself, Kenway is not much more than a greedy, self-obsessed brute. I wouldn't expect you of all among us to be one to choose emotion over reason, Mary."

Her calculating eyes dared keep his gaze, "I _am_ takin' me reason into consideration, mentor. An' it's tellin' me that Kenway's a righteous man b'neath 'at avarice o' his. I can tell. He's merely… lost. Goin' down the wrong path," she pleaded, "But the man can _change._ I ask o' ye to leave him be. It'd give me a great peace o' mind."

Ah Tabai kept still, but still tense, as he considered her words. Then he sighed and replied, "Very well. I respect your decision. I will _officially_ call off all orders to pursue Captain Kenway, instead of simply _halting_ them. I will almost go as far as to _encourage_ the Order to find it in themselves to have _mercy_ on the man- _despite_ how he's treated our brothers," he halted as he studied her disguise, "and _sisters_."

She bowed her head, relieved, " _Thank_ ye, mentor. Fer understandin'."

"However," the tan man carried on sternly, "Do not expect full forgiveness from us. Remember- the creed asks us to be wise, and we have to consider that we must be cautious with the captain. Again, as you yourself said, he is selfish, unruly, skilled, and therefore _dangerous_. In any case, we cannot help our lack of trust. I know you understand, Mary. I simply must reinforce what we stand for."

She nodded, determined, "Ah, an' I should let ye know…" she hesitated briefly, "I've invited 'im to meet me 'ere-"

"You've WHAT?!" his eyes widened again in outrage.

"He's come to know much o' Roberts an' the observat'ry after all. He could 'elp us," she realized her point was rather convincing, "The door that's said to lead to the sculpture o' the sage- I thought to explore it with 'im. 'Ave 'im verify Roberts is who he claims." She concentrated, _What else would justify my bringing the rogue to Tulum_ _…_ _?_ Ah!

"An' also," she decided to nail in her final justification, "He's got the _sense_."

Ah Tabai was, again, speechless for a moment as he thought over her words, "It… is a bright idea," he sounded impressed, even, as he shook his head side to side, "You stupefy me once more, Mary," she inwardly celebrated her success, yet he sighed, "But, again, though I am rather lenient with you, I cannot say I will be the same with Kenway. We are all on our guard, no matter who lands on our shore," he shook his head again in contempt of the reckless pirate before asking, "Does he know about you as Mary Read?"

She smiled crookedly, "Nah, he don't. With Kenway, I'd like to save it fer an appropriate time."

* * *

 _April 1717_

The Jackdaw was headed for Kingston, where, hopefully, the end would begin- the end of Captain Edward Kenway's search for the observatory, of course. This was when he would realize the _ultimate_ wealth. That was still to come, however. Till now, the pirate had only taken on mediocre quests that dished out mediocre amounts of money- a naval contract one week, island-scouring for chests the next. It was a rather slow method of gaining financial means, but he supposed it would be enough for a man who wanted an ample amount of money to sail smoothly through life in the short-run. For Edward Kenway, however, it wasn't enough of late.

The pirate felt restless as his ship roamed the tropics, as he had been feeling recently. The cloudy morning weather outside today didn't fit the usual climate of the West Indies. Edward didn't need a reminder of how today's weather matched his own unfitting mood.

Resting in the captain's cabin aboard his ship, Edward found himself thinking about James Kidd again. How was Kidd doing these days? Sure, he'd been asking himself the same question for near a year now, but he was still curious how the lad was faring. He hadn't seen the bandana-donning boy since last year, when he made a _fool_ of himself and when Kidd simply reacted with the understanding and finesse of a man twice Edward's age.

It was because of that _boy_ that he hadn't had thought sensually of a woman (or man, for that matter) for the longest while. It was likely because Edward centered his fantasies on this _kid_ that he had started to stall on his search for Roberts. It may have been easier to find the Sage if he cooperated with one side of the Assassin-Templar rivalry, but if that were to be the case, he wouldn't have the freedom he currently had to do as he pleased. To add, he would have to face the boy more frequently if he took a side, which would serve as a troublesome and constant reminder of his blunder in confessing his feelings- even ifthe lad _was_ unconditionally accepting and forgiving of Edward.

Trying to play _both_ sides while bearing these emotions, however, was getting him nowhere.

The pirate had thought these same thoughts countless times throughout the past year, and it was true, sadly: he _was_ getting nowhere. He looked around the cabin for something else to ponder over. Something new, perhaps.

There were some new things in the cabin. There appeared to be more treasure maps in the bins by the doors. Exotic pottery and other artwork lay in odd places Edward's eyes hadn't landed on in months. He supposed he _had_ made some progress as he eyed the modifications he made to the cabin throughout the months.

But his thoughts wandered on Kidd again. This time, he wondered if the lad was after Torres and Prins in Kingston. Perhaps Ah Tabai had nominated _another_ assassin to chase after them. This was the perfect chance for both Edward himself and the Assassins to intercept the Templar exchange and capture Roberts, and he should expect a hooded figure to hinder his plan once he made it to Kingston.

Before Edward could process it, he was inhaling sharply, his nose tickling. His eyes involuntarily shut as he let out a loud, head-whipping sneeze. The eruption wobbled the nightstand touching the bed. He felt the sensation return, but he didn't release anything, much to his dissatisfaction. Clearly conscious and aware now, he looked for the cause of his sneezing fit, as if there was someone telling him to sneeze, and the sensations were not simply a sign of those short-lived but tiring sicknesses. He found that the nightstand he had bumped was dust-ridden. After taking a more active glance around the cabin, he noticed that most of the place had a noticeable layer of dust.

So Edward decided to clean.

The captain opened the doors and windows of the cabin with a flourish, hoping that doing so let out more dust than it allowed in. He started with his cluttered desk, clearing maps and wiping off the exposed wood, dust silhouettes of the maps here and there. He worked his way from the desk in the center of the room to the cabin's corners. On a shelf, he swiped an assortment of trinkets to the ground, an ornate but useless compass among the knickknacks.

Scattering the objects on the floor, he uncovered a worn rag. Well, truth be told, it was once a handkerchief- "With love, Caroline" embroidered in red. Now the threads he held ran loose and the cloth was soiled with all sorts of substances. It had been too many long months since Edward placed the tattered cloth on the shelf. He only kept it to remind himself of his past intentions of earning back his wife. Now, though, that plan was as alive and vivid as the filthy handkerchief itself. Caroline seemed so… _unreachable_ these days.

His teeth clenched as he wondered when he last thought of the woman.

* * *

Having seen Laurens and Prins in Kingston, Edward and Adéwale left the crew to themselves to pursue their targets, "When we see the Sage, Adé, you bring in the rest of the gold, make the swap, and get out. I'll be watching from close by."

However, Adé refused to get involved, "No, Kenway. You run dis scheme alone, at de risk of losing de faith of your crew. It makes me ill to think of you bartering wid dat wretched slavuh."

"C'mon, mate. Once we have the Sage, we'll all be rich!" no one was stopping the pirate from obtaining the Observatory.

"Not if young Mastuh Kidd gets to him fuhst," the quartermaster pointed behind his captain.

" _Kidd_?" Edward faced the direction his quartermaster indicated. Sure enough, Kidd in all his stealthy glory stood at a fruit stand, keeping an eagle eye on Torres. _Perfect. Another distraction. And of_ all _the assassins that could hunt down Torres and Prins, it_ _'_ _s_ him _._ Why did they have to encounter one another _now_?Edward saw the lad's not-so-hidden hidden blades and remembered the threat he posed to his mission in obtaining Roberts, "Jaysus, that lad's here to kill him."

Kidd appeared to have already noticed his fellow pirate, who was also his admirer. The boy was just as stunned to see him, "Edward! What the _hell_ are ye doin' here?"

They made it appear as if they were inconspicuously joining in on the conversation of a few passersby. "I'm tailing these men to the Sage. Can you hold off 'till he appears?"

This was news to the lad, "The Sage is _here_?"

"Aye. And Prins is leading us straight to him!"

They hopped into some shrubbery to listen in on Torres and Prins's conversation. Edward took his chances and darted past them into a wagon of hay. Kidd followed suit, crushing the blonde in the pile.

If they weren't on a mission with their targets a few body lengths away behind a column, Edward would have let out a yelp.

"Just me bloody luck," Kidd hissed quietly as he crawled about within the wagon, " _Two_ major targets, and I'm kept from killin' 'em _both_."

"Steady, Jim. We're close. Don't worry."

Kidd scoffed, and Edward realized just how close _they_ were _,_ together in the pile of hay. Edward was lying on his back, Kidd on top of him. He tried getting in a crawling position beside the boy, mindlessly pressing his thigh against the area in between his legs. Kidd elbowed him for it as he also shifted away from the other man, which only caused Edward to recoil and dig his boot into the boy's calf.

"That's me leg!" They shifted about more, rustling the hay.

"Hush up! They're coming."

The Templar and slaver passed by, oblivious to their stalkers. After confirming the distance between them by using eagle vision, the pirates slipped out of the haystack and creeped along the corners of the buildings, keeping out of sight. Edward climbed a nearby edifice to get a better view, separating himself from Kidd.

After a few minutes of tedious tailing, the pirate had completely lost track of his accomplice. He didn't pick up the boy's presence anywhere in a 20-meter radius. Where was he? Their two targets were almost making their deal concerning Roberts!

Edward leaped into another conveniently placed haystack in an area surrounded by guards in red. He took down a few of them to clear a path he could creep around in and keep up with his targets. He remained concealed in the bushes, where he reunited with his friend.

"Now's the time!" Kidd whispered impatiently and showed himself for an instant.

"No!" Edward pulled him back into the greenery, "Not until we see the Sage."

They heard Prins shout to Torres in his shrill voice, "I'll see the money!"

Torres handed the slaver a jingling pouch and Prins asked more concerning Roberts. After receiving a dodging reply from Torres, he threw back the coins, "Perhaps another day."

Torres sounded more than ticked off, " _What_?"

"Next time, see to it that we are not followed!", yelled Prins. Edward's heart skipped a beat, as did Kidd's. Probably. "Deal with this!"

The pirates sighed and revealed themselves as Prins and Torres disappeared behind the corner, where five British soldiers rushed in.

"Ya cocked up me kill, Kenway!" Kidd hollered at his ally as he clashed swords with a brute.

Edward shouted back, "For a better cause!" He briefly wondered if there was a strategy to quickly eliminate the five guards, and he used a couple smoke bombs. Both the soldiers and Kidd were blinded by the smoke screen, but Kidd caught on in a moment. The smoke offered the pirates blessed with eagle vision a chance to strike against the blinded guards who were unaccustomed to such methods.

Edward turned to a sixth guard he hadn't detected and raised his wrists, hidden blades lethally drawn. Just then, his eyes met Kidd's frantic ones, and both men froze before he slashed the guard.

The boy was poised tall and majestically in the midst of the smoke. The strands of his dark hair that were unbound by his bandana were drifting in the direction of the breeze, while his face, tilted up, scowled.

The lad's lips moved expressively, and his exposed throat bobbed in harmony with the sounds he made to speak. But Kidd was whirling away from Edward, the dark hair and gold clothes twisting along with him, as he began to sprint to where Prins escaped.

Edward watched him bolt away, dazed, as his blades sunk into the guard's throat and chest. He took a step forward dumbly as he processed what the boy was doing and what he needed to do next. He took several more steps, his mind clearing and his pace quickening. _Shite! He_ _'_ _s going to_ _ **kill**_ _him before he leads us to the Sage!_ In a second, he was sprinting after the lad.

"Jim, stop!" As swiftly as Edward was running, he wasn't gaining on Kidd. The civilians on the street were getting in his way, and he was forced to shove a few of them aside.

"Not this time, Kenway!" Kidd yelled. He _sounded_ closer, at least.

Edward followed his friend to the rooftops, "Come on, man! We can work this together!"

"Ye had yer chance!" Kidd threw a smoke bomb, making him stumble and causing his eyes to sting. He was forced to remain where he was; his heightened senses failed him if he focused too much on his movements, and he couldn't risk making a wrong step.

"Stay your blade, Kidd!" he recovered and took off again, becoming more desperate as they neared Prins, "Wait!"

The boy used another smoke bomb, and as Edward halted to respond to the trouble, he also considered using dirty tactics to stop him. He didn't have to, however. Kidd hopped onto the ground and slowed down to feel his pockets for another smoke bomb. Edward took the opportunity, and finally tackled the lad.

"Damn ye, ol' scratch! Keep yer natty 'ands off me!" Kidd wrestled out of his tackle and shoved the blonde away.

 _ **So**_ _sorry if it felt like I was groping ya Jim_ , he thought bitterly."I can't let you kill those men, Kidd. Not until I've found the Sage."

"I been stalkin' that pig fer a week now, chartin' his moves," Kidd asserted. Edward scoffed and turned away, "An' here I find not one but _two_ o' me targets... and ye rob me o' _both_!"

Edward gestured to the boy to be at ease, "Patience, man. You'll have your kills."

 _Fine_ , read the boy's face. "When I locate the Sage," Kidd scoldingly watched him, "Yer helpin' me take Prins. Got that?" He thrust his palm into Edward's chest, knocking the blonde out of balance momentarily, and walked off briskly.

Edward called out before he got too far, "If ya wish! And where are we to meet?"

Kidd stopped, turned and looked around, then pointed to something high off in the distance. "By the manor. Up 'round there!"

Edward followed the direction of the boy's arm and gazed at their rendezvous area, which was behind the leaves of nearby trees that obstructed his view. He was about to shout back when he turned back and saw that the young assassin was gone.

* * *

 _Evening_

Edward took a seat at the top of the windmill, exhausted from scaling its dilapidated exterior. Kidd was already there, of course, patiently smoking a pipe as he watched the sun set.

"Wouldn't you prefer meeting in a pub?" Up here, it was rather windy and cold. But, then again, he supposed their bird's-eye view of Prins's manor didmake it easier to scheme. Moreover, the silence was rather comforting. The crickets and cicadas seemed to chirp a tranquil melody. It was more intimate than a noisy tavern.

Kidd wasn't in a much better mood than he was earlier, however, "I came to Kingston chasin' a target. Gettin' pissed ain't a priority."

"We could work together on this, you know. It's Laurens Prins you're after, and I want his prisoner."

"We're after the Sage, as well, Edward. Careful who ye cross."

He shrugged off his words and looked away from the boy, shifting his eyes at the plantation below them, "May the best man win."

Kidd ignored the stiffness between them, "A'ight. There's guards patrollin' 'at property from end to end. Looks to me like they use bells to signal trouble. See there?" he indicated one of the alarms, "We'll wanna disable those b'fore pushin' too far. With so many men about, we can't rely on stealth alone," Edward gazed at the boy as the younger man withdrew a tiny blade from one of his secret pockets, then he nonchalantly gazed back at the guarded plantation.

Meanwhile, Kidd went on with his proposal, "So, I'll do what I can to distract and draw their attention," he used the blade on his thumb, "Givin' ye a chance to cut 'em down." There it was again: he lad's voice fluctuated mellowly.

Edward pondered the plan as he studied the plantation.

"Ready?" Kidd asked. By his askew tone, the blonde deduced that the boy was smirking. He looked back at his mate, prepared to put their plan in motion.

And met the eyes of someone without a bandana to tie up strands of dark hair. Her exposed chest was graced with a tattoo, and her eyelides were enhanced with soot, likely from that pipe earlier. Her lips were tinted with what appeared to be blood. Indeed, they were smirking ever so slightly.

Edward almost frowned, and he involuntary leaned away, "Your name's not James, is it?"

"Not most days," she was suppressing a snicker, "C'mon." Whoever that was dived into a haystack below, and Edward simply put on his hood and followed suit.

Approaching the fence of the manor, the dark-haired pirate instructed Edward, "If you see Prins before I do, kill him and there'll be a bit of _coin_ in it for you. Awright?"

Edward still wasn't thinking straight. How could he? "Damn, man. How is it you're a _woman_!?"

" _Christ_ , Edward, is 'at some'n that needs explainin'? Now, I'm here to do a job. I'll let ye be amused later."

Right. This was their chance to capture the Sage. Pirate assassin James Kidd, if he existed, would not permit such an opportunity to go to waste.

* * *

Edward met up with the woman after sabotaging the alarm bells. It was time to see what she was up to regarding how they were going to get into the manor. Why she was in (or out of?) the disguise.

After giving her a nod, she stood up from the shrubbery they were hiding in and limped towards the gate, where the guards inside noticed her.

"Hold! Stand your ground!" They sounded unforgiving.

"Please," "Kidd" begged, "I been shot. I need aid."

Another guard chimed in sympathetically, "Christ, Thompson. Look at her. She's hurt!"

"Dreadfully, sir. I'm poorly," she breathed haggardly, "and faint."

Edward almost snickered at the acting. It was a bit tacky, given that he knew it was all a ruse, but the guards were convinced. The man named Thompson opened the gate and let the injured lady in, "All right. Take an arm, lass."

Kidd sighed in relief, not because of getting help for an injury, of course, "Bless you lads." _It_ _'_ _s quite the elegy, really_ , Edward thought.

She ended them with her wristblades, and strolled in.

 _Damn_.

Inside the manor, the two split up again, Kidd in search of the Sage, and Edward in pursuit of Prins. The latter combed through two floors of the manor before sensing that the slaver was in his garden.

There he was. So many ways to kill a man. How should he do it? A berserk dart? A pistol shot square in the forehead? Strangling? Or perhaps he should assassinate the man Assassin-style: hidden blades.

Edward settled with his wrist blades, as tribute to a young man he once knew.

He sneaked easily onto a branch above Prins, flicked his wrist, and lept. He almost enjoyed feeling the slaver's insides tear as he dug the blade into the old man.

Laurens Prins gurgled and spat out some blood, "Why hang over me like a leering crow? To see an old man suffer?"

"You've caused no small portion of suffering yourself, Mr. Prins," Edward knelt beside the dying man, "Retribution, I suppose." He halted and thought over his own words, like he was onto something sage-like himself.

"You absurd cutthroats and your precious _phil-o-so-phy_ ," he rasped, "You live in the world, but you cannot make it move."

Edward shrugged, "You mistake my motive, old man. I'm only after a bit of coin," his voice trailed off.

Prins laughed, his voice wilting as well, "As was I, lad. As was I." The pirate captain watched the slaver go limp, and for a fleeting moment, he saw himself. His lips tightened in thought.

"Head's up, Kenway!" yelled someone familiar, "I found yer man!" Edward turned to the direction of the voice, anticipating a captured Sage.

But it was rather the opposite: "Kidd" was held hostage by Roberts. The barrel of his flintlock pistol was pressed to her head.

"I remember you," the Sage sneered as he clenched "Kidd", "The Templar from Havana."

 _What would Kidd do if he were in my position to get him out of this?_ Edward remained level-headed, "I'm no Templar, mate! That were just a ruse! We've come here to save your arse from this slaver."

"Save me? I _work_ for Mister Prins."

"Well then he's a poor man to call master. He meant to sell you out to the Templars."

"You can't trust anyone, it seems."

Kidd knocked him back and hastily jumped from the balcony they were on. This left the Sage no chance to shoot her directly. Thinking quickly, he shot the nearby alarm bell, clanging it and alerting all the neighboring guards.

Edward remained still. Roberts could just as easily take a shot at his head. But the Sage withdrew into the manor.

"Roberts!" Edward growled. Just when they had him at their reach! An influx of men in red stormed into the garden, preventing him from chasing after the man.

The soldiers didn't notice "Kidd", who leapt into the bushes immediately surrounding the manor, "See yeon the other side!"

How to escape the torrent of guards? He found an opening: a path through the trees that would circle the manor.

It was a perfect getaway. The branches of the trees and the rooftops made a path leading straight back to the windmill: like someone or had designed, developed, and produced it just for his situation.

By now, only a few guards were chasing after him. Just barely out of sight, he plunged into a haystack no farther than five meters from "Kidd". The lass simply stood there as the five or so guards combed the area nearby. A particularly nosy one was about to poke his sword around Edward's hiding spot when the camouflaged pirate strangled him and pulled him in. _Kidd. Do something. Why aren_ _'_ _t they after you, hmm?_

A minute or so later, Edward sensed the last guard making his way back towards the manor, and he vaulted over the side of the wagon and out of the pile of hay.

"Los' yer man again, didya?" Kidd sounded giddy, which was strange considering they just lost the Sage again. She crossed her arms playfully.

"Aye. Roberts is a devil, with a _queer_ aversion to kindness," he shook his head and scoffed, "I suppose that's two men I've lost today," he eyed Kidd up and down. _There_ _'_ _s no way that chest is fake, so to say._ "So... what's your real name, lass?"

She gave a sort of laugh, as if she was thinking _it_ _'_ _s about time_ , "Mary Read to me mum," she uncrossed her arms and drifted towards Edward, "An' them I call friends."

The blonde pirate was still baffled, despite the new information. _She_ _ **is**_ _a she, then? That explains mu-_

"But not a word o' it to anyone," she went on emphatically. Edward stiffened as he felt a solid object press against his crotch, "Or I'll unman _ye_ as well."

Edward yielded and took the threat without objection. He kept clenching his fists as he realized that what he felt between his thighs was her wristblade. She smirked and held his gaze, while he remained rigid.

Mary pulled away with an enticing wink and turned away. Edward finally let loose and allowed himself his own unseen rise of the lips. His eyes never left the woman as she strode down the hill. As the very top of her head disappeared from view, he tugged on his hood and made his way to his mobile headquarters.

* * *

"Is theh somethin dat stirs yo mind, captain?", Adé probed the empty-handed, tight-lipped captain as he silently passed him by. The quartermaster was too observant for Edward's peace of mind. The captain signed mentally while the darker man continued, leaning against the wall in between the doors to the captain's cabin, "Somethin dat stirs yo mind, _aside_ de Sage dat got away?"

"How do youknow he fled?" Edward shot the man a sharp look.

"You do not hold him in captivity, and I have my doubt you would allow Mastuh Kidd to retain the Sage for himself," he smiled knowingly and motioned to his captain's free hands, "Even _den_ , you do not complain- I know of your desire for de observatory. So I ask: what has got you tongue-tied now?"

 _Right_ , Edward thought, _I can_ _'_ _t have him knowing of my feelings- even if Kidd is female. So, now, I have another secret to keep_ _…_ _Hurrah._ "It's just that, mate. Got away once more, the bastard."

"It is more dan dat, capn. You are too still and pensive for my liking. If you were to lose de sage, you would chatter endlessly of his loss. I have learned dis much of you by now," Adéwale chuckled and shook his head, "But I leave you to yourself," he stood up from leaning, "Howevuh, know you can rely on your quartermaster. Okeh?"

The dark man pat his friend on the arm, prompting a more buoyant look in the captain.

 _He has a fair point_ , Edward noted as he proceeded into the room, _I need to keep my head on straight. Mary being Mary doesn_ _'_ _t change anything. I am still legally tied to Caroline._ He grunted as he shook off the padding of his uniform.

 _But that wink_ _…_ Edward felt his trousers tighten around his pelvis.

No. Wasn't this past year enough to distract him from these… distractions? He originally came to the West Indies with the hopes of winning back his wife! _Wife_?

Yes, Caroline was his wife. The weathered handkerchief lay still on the round table in the center, a reminder of what used to be everyday life for him. He hadn't been faithful to her here in the West Indies, _that_ he couldn't refuse, but it was no longer so simple when it came to why he was here. He couldn't be so sure he even planned on returning- sailing back to Britain- when there was so _much_ in the Caribbean. There were countless things to do and so many places to explore. Among the more significant reasons of being here was to locate and obtain the Observatory, through which Edward could become _unimaginably_ rich. Another cause that kept him here was how ideal the environment itself was. The lush greenery left and right was a pleasant contrast to the blues of the seas and skies around him. Damp, foggy Britain was jealous of the climate here. The rain of the West Indies was warm and comfortable, while that of Britain was melancholy. The sunrises and sunsets were breathtaking as well. He belonged _here_.

And, ultimately, shedid too. Kidd was here to stay.

Well, _Read_ , rather, was here to stay- huh? Miss Read? That didn't quite suit her. He would still address her as "Kidd" anywhere public, of course, but…

He thought "Mary" was much more fitting for a lass as refined as she was robust, and he smiled sheepishly. His frustration diminished as he loosened his hairtie and placed it on the round table. Still, why did it have to be like this? Feeling something so… inappropriate. A serious affair wasn't what he was here for. The people he'd bedded for a night were insignificant; hey were there to fulfill his needs. There were no feelings bound, nor were there responsibilities. But Mary was different.

In any case, the task at hand was to amass a great deal coin that would sustain a lifetime of luxury. He would win back Caroline with his riches. He would enjoy a lavish life, and have quite the reputation; even the most seasoned pirates would speak the name "Kenway" with fear and utmost esteem. People of the higher classes would gape at his wealth, and women would swoon over him. It was his ultimate dream.

Wasn't it?

He sighed as he wondered where he could earn a considerable sum while Roberts lay low. Nassau seemed promising, but he'd have to talk it over with Adé when the sun rose. For now… Edward sighed again and clutched the sullied handkerchief, leaning against the large round table behind him.

So there was the matter of getting rich, particularly through finding Roberts. There was also the issue of his wavering marriage. _Side romances_ _are unnecessary._ Yet another matter concerned his relationship with Kidd…

Examining the handkerchief once more, he was relatively appreciative of Caroline; particularly speaking, he was grateful towards her for _leaving_ him. It had given him a sort of freedom, and it was the final shove that pulled Edward to the West Indies. But was it time to pursue something new?

He decided he would figure his life out, in time. Or it might figure itself out; whatever was going on with him would be fixed some day. It was possible he could regain passion for his wife. Why couldn't he fall in love with the same person again? Or was that not under his control anymore too? Was it under _anyone_ _'_ _s_ control? _Bloody Kidd. It_ _'_ _s all because of her_ _…_ _Bloody Kidd? Bloody Mary_ _…_ _?_ He let himself smile again, and placed the handkerchief behind him on the table.

He contemplated her two personas as he stood up and threw the bundle of his clothes indifferently towards a corner. Both of Mary's guises were rather fetching in their own ways- attractive to either sex, it seemed. In either form, he- _she_ \- had a way of spinning his head about. That was because…

She hadn't even changed in the first place. Male or female, James Kidd was essentially Mary Read. And Mary Read was James Kidd. Edward wasn't sure how he was comfortable with himself these past months, given that he had been fancying her _male_ facade; if a bandana-donning _lad_ had given him that suggestive wink, he was certain he would still feel something fresh and giddy rush through him now. Knowing that she revealed her true self to him added to the excitement of it all. The pirate asked himself hopefully about the wink that had been bothering him since he parted ways with the fellow pirate:

Did it mean something?

Edward dismissed the thought and tiredly rubbed his face with his palm, relieved from the reassurance of his heterosexuality, and excited about what that wink might suggest. At the same time, however, he cursed himself for admitting his feelings to the lad- lass, that is- so gracelessly. Couldn't he have conveyed his feelings with a little more of his usual charisma, at least? If he was going to completely let his wife go, he might as well have done it with style. Things were smooth and easy with Caroline; it went almost _too_ smoothly. With Ki- _Mary_ , however, things were more like… **un** like anything else.

The pirate captain sprung into bed a different man than the when he got up from it that morning, but still with Kidd on his mind.

* * *

On a side note, doesn't Mary look like Tess from The Last of Us? And (ohmigod) does the name Tess _a_ ring a bell? Eh? _Eh_?! …A bit farfetched for coincidences, I know. …How about this: Tess's voice actor's name is Annie, and Mary and Edward's friend is Anne Bonny? No? *Sigh* Oh? What are you saying now? You don't know who Tess and/or Tessa are? …Well, I prefer not to spoil you.

On another side note, I am a huge fan of hamsters- yes, the animal that's pretty much a rat with a shorter face and a shorter tail. Right now I have two boys, both are short haired and have the _banded_ kind of fur pattern (I encourage you to look it up). One is muscular and has 'blonde' fur while the other is skinny and has black fur. By now, I don't really name my hamsters anymore (I've had so many of them), and these two were nameless when I bought them. But after I played Assassin's Creed 4 a couple months later and heavily shipped I just _had_ to name them after Edward and Kidd.


	6. Part 1, Chapter 5 (a)

Sorry, my internet's been acting up so I didn't upload. I was planning to release a bunch, but I decided to split Part I, Chapter 5 into two sections. Expect the next section in two weeks!

* * *

 _Part I, Chapter 5 (a)_

It's a rather intimate affair, really.

Killing.

The Assassins strive for many things. As far back as its ancient history went, the hooded men and women always abided by their creed, forming a crew to be reckoned with. But, above all their beliefs- of all their creed provided for them- one rule (skill, really) summed the magic of their phantom powers:

Stealth. Hide in plain sight. A principal tenet to the brotherhood. Stealth transformed men and women with red sashes across their wastes into mystical killers. It had been the key to countless executions of corrupt figures. It guided its users and guarded them from the watchful eyes of the wicked. Stealth was (and still is) a foundation.

Without the protection of invisibility, there would be no disappearance of killers and dumfounding of pursuers. It would be no mystery where the hooded figures emerged from, nor to where they vanished. An exposed Assassin risked capture and risked crumbling the Order to ruins.

The Assassins' signature hidden blades were handy for stealth. Pistols, however, drew attention to their bearers, effectively ridding the supernatural effect. One gunshot was more than enough to destroy the magic.

Range wasn't an easy option, especially in more ancient times. Assassins needed to get close to their target- body to body- to silence them. Even with roundabout methods such as poison, verification of the death was necessary. They needed to witness their executed plan and the life of the target come to a close. They had to witness the body go limp.

More often than not, the hooded people would feel their prey slipping away as they gripped their blood-soaked fabric, a metallic stench tainting the air. The fading victims often looked their killer eye to eye. Some looked on with cold eyes, some with regretful ones. Some even gazed with giddy ones. Their final moments were there. How were they to spend them?

It was a rather intimate affair, really. Killing.

Direct action, an all-out killing spree of immediate threats, was necessary at times, particularly when there it was impossible to blend into the surroundings. Invisibility was always urged, however. After all, there were many soldiers working under Templars and other corrupt figures who were ultimately ignorant of the age-long conflict between the orders. Such heedless killing went against rule number two: stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent.

Because they worked behind the scenes, the Assassins could easily fade from view- _vanish_ from view, sometimes, if they were skilled enough. Yet it was exactly the reason the power came with a price; fading from view also meant that they would receive little recognition for their work…

* * *

 _June 1717_

Stealth wasn't really Edward Kenway's cup of tea when it came down to it. He personally preferred direct action for show. There was a certain thrill, though, in stalking his foes and counting their final minutes. After all- what could be in store but thresholds to riches and wealth?

Still, they were mere thresholds.

He walked the streets of Nassau alone- not even a bottle of rum at his side. He hoped to pass the time and clear his mind while Adé and the crew tended to the Jackdaw, and dawdling around the pirate republic as the day came to a close was the satisfying way to do so. Besides, there was nothing else to invest his time on, really, and he might as well be on the lookout for opportunities to get bits of coin, or perhaps, if today was his lucky day, snag information on the Sage.

Whom he let slip through his fingers, again. Edward grimaced, _Tch…_

His head perked up upon hearing familiar, though distant, voices. Looking to his left, he caught Thatch, Hornigold, Vane, and Rackham have a lively conversation by the gallows, as Edward had done with them together earlier in the year. He couldn't decipher what each individual was saying, as their voices drowned each other out.

Perhaps it would have been easier to unwind with them, but Edward dismissed the idea dully. Today, he decided, to do something different, he'd reflect in solitude. He went over to a wall (dilapidated, as were most structures in this crumbling place), put on his hood, and crouched to the ground, leaning coolly against the wall as he kept watching his mates banter. He stretched his legs in front of him as he mused.

Did they know about Kidd? How the boy was actually Mary Read?

Were they _themselves_ secretly women?

 _No_ , he scoffed. _Damn_. What the hell was he thinking? Of _course_ they were men, like Edward himself. They didn't have her "pre-pubescent" voice. Nor her attractive features. …Nor her rather refined style of walking.

Truly thinking it over, Edward wondered how he didn't see it coming.

It all made sense. Rather, what _really_ wasn't comprehensible was how Edward hadn't figured it out. He prided himself with his wit and charm, particularly with the lasses. How could he not detect that one of his best mates was not who he seemed, to say the least?

He hadn't expected it then, and he still isn't unruffled about it now, for reasons he couldn't explain.

He shook his head within his hood. _Oi, now._ Shouldn't he be relieved and excited at the reveal? As much as Edward was bewildered at himself, Edward supposed he could try reveling in the reassurance of his heterosexuality.

He pulled himself up and began to roam toward the docks, leaving his four bantering friends behind.

At the port, Adéwale was overseeing the repairing and restocking of the ship when Edward approached him glumly.

Adé greeted his friend, "'Ow do you fare, cap'n?"

By now, Edward knew his quartermaster could sense his unease. "Ya already know, don'tcha mate," he answered back, and started towards the ramp into the Jackdaw. But Adé's pressed a hand against his captain, demanding attention.

"You 'ave sheltah'd dis attitude fo' many days, Kenway. I cannot bear it. An' neiduh can de crew."

Edward felt a pang throughout his head. It pinched his nerves from within, "Apologies, Adé, but I… I need rest. Leave me be, mm?"

He gave his quartermaster a pat on the arm as an apology for his contaminated state of mind, and disappeared into the captain's cabin.

* * *

 _Nighttime_

It was dim on Nassau's beach; the moon and glowing windows on ships providing only spotted sanctuaries of light. The atmosphere was ideal for assassins to sneak around. In the shadows, movements that would signal suspicion in daylight could go completely unnoticed.

That night, an unseen figure tiptoed over ropes and nets scattered about the pier. It climbed the wood of a sturdy ship, slipping into the room just underneath its helm. It was quite the feat, really; the double doors hadobediently kept silent.

Meanwhile, Edward Kenway slumbered soundly. His body was drained, his mind adrift over a bandana-donning boy transforming into a lip-stained woman. Unconsciousness offered no haven from these concerns.

He pictured spending time with her on the beach, in the jungles, strolling about in the cities… He could hear her low-pitched voice that wasn't quite a man's, and link fingers with her hand as they showed each other what they had discovered. She would teach him a knot she mastered in her travels, then he would show off a pearl he fetched from an oyster in a coral reef.

A light sleeper, but particularly so on emotion-ridden nights like these, he sensed the presence of an intruder some time in the middle of the night.

He opened an eye to a ruggedly-dressed woman, her dark hair loose and her blouse exposing her tattooed bosom. She sat beside him on an armchair- the one for the desk Edward never used.

His eyes furrowed as he twisted an arm over his head and lit the gas lamp. "You? Why are ya here?" he queried groggily, rubbing his eyelids.

Mary said simply, "Pursuin' someone. B'sides," she smiled slightly and looked to the side, "I _am_ a founder o' Nassau ye know."

Edward nodded slowly, "But why _here_ … on the Jackdaw?"

"Well, I s'pose ye can guess whom it is I've set out fer."

He tilted his head downward but kept his gaze on her. _Why you siren… or is it a succubus I'm thinking of?_ Edward tried playing along, his tired eyes widening and his blood pumping a tad faster, "Ya mean… them amorous ones and the like?"

Her hazel eyes lit up, "Aye! An amorous one."

Edward nodded. He wondered if she could tell he was rather beside himself right now.* "This is no dream, then," he muttered, then asked, "You were… ordered, so to say, to hunt this man down?"

"Nah. Took ma'ers into me own hands. Me target stood out 'nuff fer me to notice in the first place."

 _What? I'm getting lost._ "And you're comfortable enough with this target of yours to visit him out of disguise?"

"Aye. This man I'm huntin' down- I've a surprise. Rather, some'n to ask o' him."

"Oh? Which is?" He didn't know if he could keep up with her analogies much longer. _She couldn't be actually here to kill, can she?_

"What do ye say to a li'l rendevous? On the morrow."

 _From Kidd to Mary to Shakespeare?_ , he wondered,"A 'rendezvous' with the… one you're pursuing? Shall I- Should _he_ take that to mean…?" he raised a hopeful eyebrow.

"It's a bloody date, Edward." Mary thinned her lips in either abandonment of their game or out of sheepishness. Edward's eyes widened more and he let out a breath he realized he was holding in. She continued, "An' I wasn't hopin' for jus' _one_ tryst- Bugger off!"

Edward had sat up and reached to tousle her hair a tad. She warded off his hand, grabbing his wrist, and put her legs up on the bed, boots pinning down Edward's thighs.

He sighed with satisfaction, "So I ain't dreaming…"

"Yer dreams prolly ain't this fine," she leered and placed his hand on the bed, patting it there before leaning back, "So whaddya say, mate? If ye've completely foregone yer wife, o' course…"

 _You don't have to ask again, Kidd. Caroline's well-being concerns me, but we're through._ By now Edward was completely awake, and he instinctively agreed,"Would be my pleasure, Mary. But…" Something seemed wrong. "Why didn't you invite me to a 'rendezvous' a while ago?"

"'Ave ye ever 'eard of a seventeen or so year ol' lad askin' a man his senior out fer a _rendezvous_ , Edward? Be'er yet, ever 'eard of a bloodthirsty pirate fella fancyin' another bloke? C'mon, Now what do ye propose we set out to do?"

They both broke out in grins.

* * *

"Our ship's unsinkable!" Mary exclaimed from the Jackdaw's helm.

The following few days, they had decided, they would take each other's wheels. Today, it was Mary's turn to sail the Jackdaw.

"Yer brig appears titanic, now 'at I take 'er wheel. I've grown accustomed to me schooner."**

Edward pat her on the shoulder, "Some pirates keep a parrot. Me? My Jackdaw'll do."

"Aye!" Both were awed at their combined power.

They enjoyed a few moments of tranquility on the waters. The boat swaying as they cruised, the warm wind sweeping their skin, the crew bustling about and working together… Edward was pleased with the way things were, and he could tell Mary was content as well.

Then the crew broke in song.

"O, my name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed, as I sailed," sang two crewmen. The rest echoed back, "O, my name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed."

"Oi! Ye schemer!" Mary, smirking, scolded Edward teasingly and looked towards him at her side.

"Save it for Adé," Edward responded, saluting his quartermaster out on the deck with a tilt of the head.

"I'll give 'im all the credit, then!" she laughed, and joined the crew, singing the lower melodies, "O, I murdered William Moore as I sailed."

She paused and sneered, "Ah… That verse. Paints an interestin' picture o' Kidd." They chuckled.

Edward, realizing something, turned to her and asked in a quiet voice, "If it's not the case that you're the bastard son of William Kidd, then who's your true father?"

"I'll explain in time, Edward," she assured.

"Ah, right. Too risky to discuss here," Edward left it at that, and they sang along to the rest of "Capn Kidd" with the Jackdaw's crew.

Eventually, the song ended, and Mary sighed enthusiastically. "Let's take 'er into battle," she suggested, a glint in her eye.

"Let's," Edward agreed and yelled, "Awright lads!" _She's your commander in the meantime!_ "Shee—," he drawled and widened his eyes at what he was about to say, "—ite. Shite!" He looked up, directly at the sun, inducing a sneeze. " _He_ 's your commander in the meantime!"

"Bless ye," she murmured sarcastically before yelling, "Ye all 'ear 'im! Man the cannons- we'll wrestle the firs' Spanish brig we spot!" She leaned in towards Edward and murmured again, "Ye know, ye might've actually fooled 'em with 'at dramatic speech-interruptin' sneeze o' yers."

He placed his hands on his waist and shifted his weight to one foot, "Impressive way to disguise my slip? I make do, mate."

Adé called out, "Capn Kidd! Spanish brig yonduh!"

The two captains followed the direction he pointed and, behold, a Spanish brig.

Mary shouted back back, "Aye! All ye handlin' the mor'ar- on me call, unload all ye got!"

Edward observed the other ship using his spyglass, "She's the metal-bearing type. Hoped to come by one, actually. Care to tip the split of the supply in my favor, Kidd?"

He turned towards her, "Kidd?"

"FIRE!"

Mortar blasted in the air, showering the brig with fire. By the time the Spaniards were prepared for battle, the pirates were approximately 200 meters away, and the Jackdaw was headed straight for the brig's side.

"I been achin' to put this ram to use, Kenway!" Mary hollered, her eyes wild, "Unloose all the sail we got, lads! Launch the chain shots NOW, an' ready the 'eavy!"

The Jackdaw's ram plunged into the wood of the Spanish ship and swept across its side, disabling several cannons. _I'll have to try this technique sometime_ , Edward mused. Usually he simply lunged forward and retreated, but scraping the enemy's side appeared rather effective.

"Gimme some 'eavy shot!" the ignited cannon balls wrecked the distressed brig even further, "An' _you,_ mannin' the swivel gun! Spot 'er frailties an' do 'er in! An' if ye can plug the capn with yer shots, do that as well. Kenway- assist with reloadin'!" she grinned fiercely at him.

Edward's heart raced. _So this is James Kidd in action._ They had already impaired the other brig significantly, while the Jackdaw was practically untouched. Impressive, especially for her first time sailing the brig. "Aye, aye!"

The Spanish brig slowed from the damage it took, and the Jackdaw sailed past it.

Edward yelled from beside the swivel gun, "Shall we unleash the barrels, Capn Kidd?"

"'Old it, Kenway," she uttered while turning the wheel forcefully, "Trim the yards off the wind! _All_ o' it!"

Edward liked this strategy, or he thought he did. He approached the helm in concern, "Kidd! They'll ram into us as well!"

"Trus' me, mate," she steadied the wheel once they faced their opposition, "They'll aim for 'at ram, and we'll-"

"Capn! Ready to fire!"

"'Old fire!" she yelled, "Load the 'eavy shot but _'old_ yer bloody _fire_!"

The ships neared like knights jousting, except only the Spanish brig was moving. They fired chain shot at the Jackdaw, skimming off some wood.

"Kidd…" Edward urged.

"Haul down the sail!" Mary began to turn the wheel again, with more might this time, "On me call, blast 'er with 'eavy shot anew! An' ready the swivel guns!"

The crew cheered once they incapacitated the brig.

The Spaniards already had their hands raised in surrender once the pirates stormed aboard, but they all remained standing. The Jackdaw crew busied themselves at once, pocketing anything of value.

"Down, all o' ye!" Mary threatened with her pistols. After a few seconds of the men in yellow giving each other uncomprehending looks, she demanded, " _¡Arrodillénse!_ "

They knelt immediately, and one Spanish man whimpered, " _¡El diablo habla español!_ "

" _¿Quién habla_ _inglés_ _?_ " she demanded, glaring at each Spaniard and pointing her pistols at their heads, " _¿Nadie? Nosotros queremos los otros bienes. ¿Dónde están?"_ The Jackdaw crewmen paused their plundering to stare at their makeshift captain's Spanish. Edward kept his own mouth half-open as he watched his _compañera_.

* * *

* The science behind falling in love - quoted from youramazingbrain .org: Psychologists have shown it takes between 90 seconds and 4 minutes to decide if you fancy someone.

Research has shown [deciding if someone is desirable] has little to do with what is said, rather:

55% is through body language

38% is the tone and speed of their voice

Only 7% is through what they say

** Don't mind the Titanic references.

MERRY (Mary) Christmas.

In the meantime, check out this pirate christmas song I found! youtube watch?v=2E7hn5Yt98E


	7. Part 1, Chapter 5 (b)

Part I, Chapter 5 (b)

"Jaysus! Impressive, Kidd," Edward praised his partner in crime from beside the Jackdaw's wheel, "Ya operate the Jackdaw so craftily! Then ya speak bloody Spanish!"

Mary stepped casually towards the helm as she tilted her head back and side to side, cracking her neck, "I make do, mate."

Edward chuckled, "Why not sink them, though?" he gazed back towards the sail-less brig, Spaniards inside either dead or scampering about, panicking.

"They'll get assistance from their _amigos_ in time; this area's brimmin' with Spanish vessels. An' this ain't some'n they'd ferget soon- their stories of 'ow fearsom the Jackdaw is'll spread like a disease. I'm merely doin' yer reputation a favour."

"Fair enough, mate. I only hope the means through which my reputation spreads isn't like that of syphilis," he elbowed her playfully.

She raised an eyebrow, "But it'd be honoring to 'ave yer name cried while climaxin'."

"Aye, but after the fun comes suffering."

"All the more my point stands! Those who hear o' Edward Kenway'd be in fear, jus' as those with the disease are haunted."

He scoffed, "It was a hogwash metaphor, but I suppose we made some sense of it. Now where to, Captain?"

"What do ye think, Kenway? _Where_ , rather? It's yer choice."

"I say let's have another go in battle," then he shouted to the crew, "What's our view on more coin, lads?"

"HYAA!"

So they plundered another brig, this exploit equally thrilling as their last, and sailed away with thousands of reales worth of supplies and rum. After taking time to keep the Jackdaw ship-shape, they were off for more, Edward taking the helm.

"What's that ship doing stationed like so?" Edward wondered aloud.

"Where, capn?" asked Adéwale.

"Starboard."

Mary, on Edward's left, looked past the blonde, and narrowed her eyes, "Oi, Edward. 'And me the spyglass." With it, she peered at the brig, "It's bloody Vane!" Smiling, she lowered the device.

Edward recalled welcoming the other pirate to Nassau some months back, "Ah, I forgot to mention. Aye, he's here. That's the Ranger, is it? We'll grant him a visit." He shouted to the crew, "Awright lads! We're to go starboard to the brig! She's a friendly!"

Mary seemed particularly delighted, "Been some years since we've 'appened 'pon one 'nother!"

As they neared Vane's Ranger, the pirates aboard the Jackdaw saw and heard increasingly clearer that Vane and Rackham were arguing vivaciously. Rackham, holding up a bottle of rum and a pistol, was running away from the other man while Vane gave chase. There was broken glass littering the deck. What few crewmen Vane managed were either passed out on deck or making merry below. On second thought, it wasn't far-fetched to imagine that those below deck were passed out as well, or that there weren't any crewmen below at all.

The Jackdaw pulled in beside the Ranger. Edward heard Mary next to him inhale sharply, and he imagined her tensing up. He steered the wheel to steady the ship, "Kidd? What's got-?" he looked at her direction to see nothing. Instead he heard the rope-swing snap in the other direction.

Mary was perched on one of the long pieces of wood going across the mast, and she shouted down, "Oi Vane! 'Eld up, are ye? What'n bloody 'ell is the flamboyant one up to?"

"Kidd?! That you?" Vane yelled as he dodged the bottle Rackham threw at him, "Get out 'ere from wherever you're cooped up and help me put down this shite sailor!"

"Gotcha, mate," she leapt as Rackham passed underneath and knocked him out with a blow.

"If it ain't James Kidd!" Vane slowed his pace and rested against the side of the boat, huffing, "Agh… Wretched arse." He nudged his foot against unconscious Rackham in the belly, cracking a few toes.

Edward arrived at the scene in a half-jog, "What's come about here, Vane?"

"Agh. The drunk-as-shite li'l clod took the last of the rum. He's already gagged all over my deck enough times!" A piece of glass shattered underneath where he stepped.

"An' he flung 'bout the rest o' the bottles?" asked Kidd.

Vane shook his head, "That was me."

Rackham groaned, wakening, "Shite, Charlie," he spit out blood as he got on his knees and elbows, the bubbly red liquid splattering the wood of the ship. "Oh.. O-oi. Who? Who they 'gain?" He eyed Edward and Mary.

Edward answered, "Kenway, mate. From back in Nassau?" He walked over and pulled the man up onto his feet, "The lad's a Mr. James Kidd."

"Right" Mary nodded to the drunkard.

Vane quickly looked at her and commented, "There's some'n a bit off 'bout that voice o' yours, Jim. Still hasn't d'veloped, eh? How old are ya anyway?"

Edward quickly shifted his gaze to her, _Aye- just how old_ are _you?_

"Old 'nuff to shame ye both with me skill an' finesse," she crossed her arms and tilted her head away from him, which Edward was realizing was her signatures style, "So who's the rat?" She regarded Rackham.

The man himself stumbled towards her, but was restrained by Edward, "Only _the_ 'Calico' Jack Rackham!" He fell to his knees again.

They all heard the glass shattering beneath him. They all heard him yelp.

Vane scoffed, "Bloody shite. I'll take 'im. You both go on with your day- I'll be seeing you before long, I'm certain. Up we go!" He linked his arms around Rackham's waist and hauled him up.

Edward and Mary, unsure whether or not to intervene, watched Vane half-carry and half-drag the man towards the captain's cabin. "Whuh?" Vane grunted, "Think I can't 'andle the clod? Once he's able to stand- when he's both sober and patched up- he's scrubbing my deck!"

"An' ake care not to dirty the wounds! Infection is misery," Mary kicked aside a bloodied shard of glass, "Ah- an' 'ave yer crew do some scrubbin' meanwhile, eh, Capn Vane? B'fore ye find yerself playin' nurse too often!"

"Bugger off, mum," Vane grumbled, "But ya know, Kidd, I do miss that cheek of yours."

"Call it 'c _heekiness'_ , man! Don't mislead Kenway to thinkin' ye miss me mouth- gets jealous, does he!" *

The reckless men disappeared into the cabin, and Edward's and Mary's eyes followed the blood trail at the threshold of the cabin back to the space right below them, then up at one another.

"That's that," Mary shrugged and stepped next to the plank going between the Ranger and the Jackdaw, "C'mon."

Edward wondered, "Does he know about you?" She knew what he meant by that.

"Nah," she lowered her voice to a whisper as Edward stood next to her, "An' he thinks I'm kiddin' when I say such things like ye bein' a jealous lover o' mine."

"And you're sure Vane's lent an ear to ya regarding this mess on his deck?" asked Edward as they stepped onto the wood.

She answered, "Either way, I'll make sure o' it."

Adéwale laughed as he welcomed the two back, "T'was quite de show, Capn."

"Agreed. Let's resume our voyage, then." They made their way towards the helm.

"Pardon, Capn," Adé started, "De crew has taken to dividing de recently acquired valuables amongst demselves. It may take time to prepah."

"Awright, then. Send word out when we're set."

Waiting for the crew to finish their preparations, Edward undid his hairtie and ran his fingers through the loosened blonde locks, some of the strands framing his face. He looked to where Mary leaned against edge of the sterncastle, and he caught her gazing blankly at him. _Oh. That pleases her?_

She smirked knowingly and turned away. _Alright then. I won't tie it up for the rest of the day._ He also smiled and turned around to face the wheel. But he was surprised to see Adéwale already at the wheel, looking at him as well.

"I will cry out when we encounter an enemy ship whose cargo we could put to use," Adé nodded, "Take it easy with _Mastuh Kidd_ in the meantime, Kenway."

They both looked at her, resting her arms on the wood as the ship began to move forward. Edward glanced back at Adé, who was now looking forward and ordering the crew to give him some sail. As he approached Mary, he wondered if Adé knew her secret.

They watched the Ranger shrink as they gained distance, and when it appeared to be the size of a mere model ship, Mary spoke, "Bloody 'ell, Edward. Vane's found 'imself a strange mate."

"Aye. _Mates_ ," he leaned in and whispered flirtatiously, "Like we are. But, ya know, they don't relish each other as wedo-"

"Ye know what I mean, Kenway." she smirked and lightheartedly shoved him away, peeking back to see if Adé noticed their teasing.

Edward chuckled, "From what I've heard, Kidd, Rackham has spent half of his adulthood pissed."

* * *

The next day, it was Edward's turn to sail Mary's vessel. Her schooner, which she fondly called the Matador, donned a twin-tailed siren as a figurehead. _Fitting_ , thought Edward. Her hair spilled over her breasts and her head was decorated with a rather humble crown, a star in the center of the coronet.**

"The _Matador_?"

"It don't sound quite so adventurous like the Ranger er fearsome as the Revenge, prolly due to bein' _Spanish_. But I was hopin' to 'ave meanin' an' depth in the name. I was considerin' other ones."

"And what were these other names?"

"Nightmare, Exodus, the Drake, the Kelpie, an' the Vapor, to name a few."

"Viper?"

"Vapor. Like mist?"

Edward shook his head, unbelieving, "Jaysus, what sort of names _are_ these, mate?"

"Like I said- _meanin_ '. All of 'em are from myth er they refer to concepts 'at relate to me," she considered them all again, "But Drake was tribute to Sir Francis Drake."

"Awright, the Exodus is the only other of them that sounds imposing," he still wasn't sure about the quality of the proposed names, "And just what does Kelpie mean?"

"It's a horse-like creature o' the water. Flauntin' a silky mane, it'd lure folks an' offer rides on its back. Then it'd drag 'em to the bottom o' lakes. Once ye accept a ride from it, don' expect to get off. It's a silly name fer a deadly bein'."

"Ah, like a _Ceffyl Dŵr_?"

"Pardon?" _Kehfill Doohr? Careful Door?_

"The Welsh tell of a water beast like your Kelpie. Kelpie sounds rather delicate for a name, mate. But its legend says otherwise."

"Aye. Sorry it ain't a name so fearsome as _El Impoluto_."

"Aye, the legend of a vessel," he nodded, " _El Impoluto_ … Shite. What's it mean again?"

"Flawless. Pure. Immaculate," she grinned, "Virgin. The meanin's aren't nearly as imposin' as its sound."

Edward chucked, "And what does _Matador_ mean?"

"Could be taken to mean _killer_ , or _deadly_. But most usually think of 'em bullfighers."

"Well, it fits ya, and it _does_ sound mean. Now imagine ya bullfighting, Mary."

She chuckled back, but hushed her voice to a murmur, "It's _Kidd_ 'round 'ere, mate."

He gawked, scanning the ignorant crewmen busy about the deck, "Jaysus! Even aboard your own?"

"Aye. Since ya know things 'at me crew don't, take 'at to mean that yer one to trust with this bit o' knowledge."

"Fine by me, mate," Edward agreed, "Now let's get her in action."

"Eager now, are ye? A'ight, we'll bullfight, so to say. Now, remember, this ain't like yer brig. Built more fer speed, mm? But when managed properly, she's a wrecker. So focus more on dodgin'. I suggest ye practice on a wee gunboat b'fore settlin' on a frigate."

"Aye, but I'll go for a schooner."

"Fair 'nuff. Jus' keep in mind yer steerin' _mah_ wheel."

Not long, they encountered a schooner. Edward felt the urge to ram the other ship, but he resisted, keeping in mind that without a ram, he'd only damage to the Matador. The enemy then damaged a portion of their hull, but the temporary captain held his ground.

"Remember what she's built fer," Mary suggested.

"Speed, right? I got this."

And he did; he circled the waters, landed a few hits with the cannons, then went back to circling. The other schooner also began circling. WIth the two ships dancing around each other, cannons weren't as effective.

Edward rarely used the fire barrels on the Jackdaw, but he realized that they would be invaluable now- using them would make this battle twice as easily, and they would finish them in half the time.

"We need more men working the barrels!" Edward yelled out to the crew. Immediately, several of them rushed towards the stern.

He set up a minefield of fire barrels in the water, and navigated his own work, dodging barrels already set up in order to place more. The enemy schooner, less aware of the locations of the barrels, ran into a good few of them. Edward ordered the ones it skimmed to be shot from the swivel guns, so that the barrels were still dealing some damage.

"Good judgment, mate," Mary complimented, "She'll go down in no time. I'll help with reloadin'."

However, the enemies got better at avoiding the barrels, and they were able to use their cannons against the Matador.

Actually, l _et's escape this hellhole_. Edward steered them away from the network of fire barrels. "Ready the cannons!" Once the two ships were lined up properly, he ordered them to be fired, which dealt a good amount of damage to the other schooner. They were almost through.

Then Mary reappeared beside him, "Shite! See there?!" There was a pirate hunter brig approaching. Fast.

"Aye! Uh…," Edward started steering them away they both tried to think up a strategy. They were fine enough to finish off the schooner, but with the added brig…

A few mortars from the brig sprayed around them.

"Kenway!" Mary yelled. Some burning shrapnel landed no more than a schooner's length away from them.

"Aye. Aye! Take cover, lads!"

"Get the hell 'way from 'ere! Fire back at the brig-"

"I can handle this! Just leave me be!" He headed towards the schooner, still surrounded by a few fire barrels.

She pounded her fists down at the rail in frustration, "Change course, Edward! Change yer bloody course before it's too late!"

He remained silent, and concentrated on a way to survive. Then he started turning the wheel rigorously, "Ya lot up front! Focus your cannons on their barrels and fire on my call!"

With a few shots from the front cannons, the schooner was down. But Edward and company were still heading towards it.

"We'll swiftly make a few repairs, restock, the like," he told Mary.

Seeing as how Edward could easily make his way around the fire barrels he released earlier, and seeing as how the need for repairs outweighed the need to dodge mortar from the faraway brig, she agreed, "A'ight. Best t'hustle, then. Couple minutes at _most_."

But as they pulled next to the defeated schooner and withdrew their sails, the brig withdrew their sails also.

"Wha' in 'ell is wrong with 'em?" Mary pointed out.

"They're just… letting us go? While we loot the schooner? Strange," Edward agreed, "Why not strike us down while we're sitting ducks?" ***

"So gentleman-like," she joked, "Means we've more time to make repairs!"

So they took their time making those aboard the other schooner surrender, and they made sure to get as much loot as they could. Even as they were finishing up repairs, the brig simply bobbed up and down in the sea.

"I'm actually becoming unsettled," Edward remarked, "What are they plotting?"

"I'm no less stumped, mate," replied Mary.

Once they released their sails again, the pirate hunters finally let theirs down as well.

"Ah! 'Ere we are. It's more comfortin' 'at they're behavin' normally once again," she smirked, "Now take 'er down."

"Let's."

He maneuvered to a blind spot behind the brig, and ordered the side cannons to be fired. That caused some damage, but Edward could tell it would take several tries to completely cripple her. He then made his way to the bow of the opposing ship.

 _What?_ , wondered Mary. "Ah, I think I got what yer plannin'. Why not get yer swivels goin' at the cannons while 'em hunters're stallin' with loadin'?"

"Swell idea, Kidd. Ya heard her, mate?" Edward yelled at the direction of the sailor manning the swivel gun.

He widened his eyes perplexedly, "What? Who?"

"You. Ya heard himmate? Aim to disable them cannons!" " _Her mate" might as well sound like "him mate."_

Mary scoffed quietly, amused.

The sailor turned back at once, "Aye, Capn!" He got a few of the cannons, along with some pirate hunters in the lower decks.

"Jaysus! How much ya want for me to get him on _my_ crew, Kidd?"

Turning at the bow of the Spanish brig, he ordered some barrels to be dropped off. Then came the heavy shot.

"Take cover, lads! And grab onto… anything!" As they were blasted by the other ship, Edward turned the wheel sharply to get to their blind spot. He ordered for cannon fire as he got them closer to the brig's side to release heavy shot.

But the cannon fire blew up some explosives right at the base of the brig's mast.

In a few moments, the mast splintered loudly. It gradually toppled over, straight on top of Edward. Mary made her way the halyard before Edward could even shout "full bloody sail."

Toppling into the sea and just out of the schooner's way, it sprinkled the Matador's deck with water.

The crew cheered, while Edward and Mary laughed hard. They were soon gripping their sides, and she went over to the helm and commended his work, "Fine effort, mate. Sturdy teamwork there. I'm proud of ye," she offered a hand, arm-wrestling style, as a sign of congratulations, "Less take from 'em, shall we?"

Edward took it with his own hand and was rather satisfied with himself.

* * *

The day after, the two friends combed Nassau for treasures hidden throughout the city and its outskirts. Mary even helped Edward with a map that led to a brimming chest buried in the area; they split the Reales while Edward kept the diagram of grey sails. In the end, Edward wound up learning more about the pirate republic's territory within a day alongside Mary than he would have within a month on his own.

The sun quickly traveled from east to west, and before they knew it, Edward and Mary looked up to find pink and orange streaks in the sky in place of blue and white ones. They decided it was time to spend what they had gathered.

On the main street of the city, Edward purchased a set of pistols, and ordered an upgrade to his cannons that would be completed overnight. Mary ordered some reinforcements to the hull of her schooner, and bought ink for writing- most likely for reporting to Ah Tabai, Edward thought. They both restocked on ammunition for their ships and weapons. Then the two quickly stopped by Old Avery's for a bottle of rum on-the-go. Bottles in hand, they descended the stairs.

"The barmaid seemed rather fixed on ya," Edward playfully told Mary.

"The redhead? Aye, an eyeful she was. Also appears to 'ave a sort o' strength people tend to miss. She gives off 'at look," she appeared to be seriously admiring the girl before eyeing Edward, "Pity I've got someone already," she smirked.

She reached over to clink her bottle with his, and took a swig. Edward raised an eyebrow at her response, "You're… keen on misses, so to say?"

"Eh. Per'aps t'was the lack o' men who go 'by the hour,' but I can do with beddin' lasses, aye," she took another swig as they reached the ground.

"Then should I also be wary of some _lass_ stealing ya away from me, then?" Edward half-joked, "And don't those ya bed become aware of your secret?"

She paused briefly, "Now, I didn't go to 'em houses as Kidd. I've me ways. In the end, it don't ma'er- s'been a long while since I've gone to one. Also, worry 'bout _yerself_ gettin' captivated by some other lass b'fore frettin' o'er me," she snickered, "I'll ask ye now, 'ow 'bout that: ever stuffed yerself in another _lad_ , Edward?"

He made a face before exclaiming, "Oi!" as he felt a tugging on the back of his coat. _What the-?_

He turned around and looked downward to meet the eyes of a wide-eyed boy in a tricorn hat.

"'Eyo!"

Edward leaned away, bewildered. _Did I do something wrong?_

Mary responded for him, "Did ye need some'n, lad?"

Edward looked gratefully at his friend.

The boy glanced at the blonde and back at Mary, then back to the blonde, then back at Mary. His eyes widened even more, as if he realized something. He looked upward again.

"Oi, Mr. Pirate," he addressed Edward, "Is the pirate miss your beloved?"

The two stiffened. Edward spoke up, "Kidd, a _lass_? He may be underdeveloped-" while Mary knelt, puffed out her binded chest, and spoke to the boy firmly, cutting off Edward, "Actually, lad, I'm jus' like you- only per'aps ten years er so older. Me voice still needs to deepen. But I'm a man awright- jus' look at the muscle I be buildin' up!" She held up her arm, flexed, and pat her biceps.

"Actually a boy, are you?" the boy's eyes gleamed, "If a lad with a shrill voice can become a pirate, then so can I! I can't wait! I'll have one of those feather hats like Mr. Blackbeard! I'll even name my ship Polly!"

Mary smiled slyly at the boy's skewed view of pirates, and Edward couldn't help but grin at the two "lads."

A woman appeared from aside, and took the boy's hand, "My apologies for disturbin' you both. Lionel, this little _imp_ o' mine, had run to you rather rough-lookin' gents when my back was turned. But when I started over 'ere, I realized you two were rather … _hearted_ pirates. Lionel's _obsessed_ with 'em pirates- won't stop yappin'!"

"His father one of us?" Edward speculated.

"Oh, aye! He's out there sailin' under some captain. Us two've been distanced for a few years or so now, however."

"Under whom does he serve?" asked Mary, standing up.

"Under a Captain Kenway, last I heard."

"Aye?" Edward inquired, intrigued, "What is this Kenway like?"

The woman raised an eyebrow, perhaps thinking Edward was getting off topic, "Ya haven't heard of 'im? They say he's made for fame among pirates: powerful, smart, charming… but _greedy_."

Edward took a few seconds to think over this developing reputation. Mary stepped in, filling in again for his silence, "Kenway? I'm familiar with 'im. Could get in touch with 'im with ease. What's the chap's name?"

"Lionel."

"The father, I mean."

"Ah. Tobias. But you don't have to involve yourself with our personal matters, lad," in spite of this, it seemed as though she actually wanted Mary to be involved.

"Ain't a problem, miss. I've first 'and experience of bein' fatherless meself. It'd be splendid if he an' Lionel were to be reunited," she nodded an acknowledgement to Lionel, "I'll pass it on to Kenway soon as I can."

The woman smiled at Mary's compassion, "Aye. For Lionel's sake, at least, it _would_ be nice to be in touch with Toby again. Even if we _did_ part ways on unpleasant terms-."

The little lion jumped around frantically, the woman's arm twisting accordingly as she maintained her grasp on his hand, "I get to see Pa again?!"

Mary crossed her arms and grinned, "I'll see what I can do, at least. 'Ow's 'at, lad?"

"Bloody amazing, pirate boy!" still clutching his mother's hand, he stepped forward and hug her legs.

His mother didn't much mind his potty mouth or touchy behavior towards the armed pirates- rather, she smiled, "I'd very much appreciate it, Mr. Kidd," the smile turned sad, "But now I must go and finish my errands. Thank you both for inspirin' Lionel. I wish you and your friend a wonderful time with your piratin' business."

The pirates bade farewell to the woman and the child.

"I hated it when people cooed at an' belittled me when I was 'at age," Mary wondered aloud, as they waved goodbye to the two, "Oi, talk to this Tobias o' yers, Edward."

"Eh. What have I to lose?" Edward shrugged, his eyes easing, "And about children being belittled, I agree. Ya should meet my parents. They'd go on about their issues, yet not give a rat's arse about mine. Like what happened with the ducks at the pond by our farm."

"Oh? Do tell."

* * *

Their walk led them through the swamps just west of Nassau. As they worked their way around the marshes, crocodiles eyed them anxiously.

"It was rather fun, Edward," she told him, "Plunderin', runnin' into ol' mates, trekkin' through Nassau, runnin' into li'l lads who see right through ye… Ge'in to see yer reactions was all the more a reason to enjoy it."

Edward took that to mean that it was his presence that made her time in Nassau so pleasant. "It's a jolly holiday with ya, _Mary_ ," Edward smirked, "It's grand saying your real name."

They crossed a tumbled tree trunk over the water, over to a cattail-filled island. Having reached a dead end in their stroll, the two spun to face back. But they didn't move just yet. Edward saw that Mary was still smiling casually, and he grinned back.

Edward used eagle vision to briefly survey their surroundings. Making sure no people were in the vicinity, he reached for Mary's shoulders to get her to face him.

Reading longing in her eyes, Edward shut his own, and pulled in for a kiss.

His lips met flat skin. Definitely not lips. Opening his eyes, he found he was kissing Mary's cheek, and he withdrew. Her smile was still there, though diminished slightly, and she was staring somewhere past Edward.

Then she met his gaze, "I bet a question tuggin' on yer mind is when next ye'll see me?"

Edward, now a bit glum, nodded. _Was something wrong?_

She smiled, although uneasily, "I've a treat fer ye in Havana. Be there by the end o' June if ye want in," she winked, and unsheathed her sword.

Edward unsheathed both of his blades, and turned, expecting a crocodile or perhaps a Templar out for Mary. He wasn't let down.

He reached down and let the crocodile bite down a sword instead of a leg, then skewered its head with his other cutlass. Mary stepped in to behead it swiftly, "Hopefully it suffered only briefly," she flicked out a hidden blade and sliced a portion of the hide, "Three blades surpass two, even, eh? I bet ye could put the rest o' this to use. Shame to kill a thing without a purpose, innit?"

Edward smirked, "Aye." He eyed the bloodied wristblade that vanished back into its vambrace.

"I'll see ye, Edward," she matched his coy smile. With that, she clambered onto a fallen tree trunk and scuttled away.

He already longed for the company of his quirky friend as he decided he could use the crocodile hide to craft a pistol holster.

* * *

What could she possibly have in store for Edward? You'll find out next time on Buried Treasure!

* I was trying to make a joke. Vane missing Kidd's cheek could either mean that he misses her wit, or that they used to… "fool around"… back in the day- do "oral" deeds so to say ;) - and that he would like to fool around again. Mary's just cleverly clearing up the ambiguity. I could have also gone further with the joke and mentioned how "mouth" and "lip" can also mean "cheekiness" or "sass." But I didn't.

** Sound familiar? Look at your cup next time you go get some coffee.

*** I'm making fun of how, in the game, other ships don't attack you while you're plundering, even if you're in the middle of a heated battle.


	8. Part 1, Chapter 6

_Part I, Chapter 6 - December, 1717_

Winters didn't really exist in the West Indies. Britain must have been blanketed in white snow now, but as Edward sat with Thatch and Bonnet at Old Avery, where the only thing to blanket the general region was white sand, Edward fidgeted in his bulky gear like he would in July.

"Shite. Where to get them medicines." Thatch stated more than asked.

The three of them couldn't quite enjoy the rum while the plague was rampant. Even the musicians couldn't bring themselves to carry a cheerful tune when there was so much gloom about. Perhaps the liveliest person in the heart of the pirate republic was Anne, pacing all over the tavern to distribute drinks and strike up conversations with customers who wanted to wash away their troubles.

"You," Bonnet began, "You say the closest doctor is located in Havana?"

"Aye," Thatch gave a somehow hopeful gaze at Bonnet, "An'?"

"But we can't… go," he responded, trailing off briefly, "To Havana."

"An' be sent to the gallows the bloody followin' day?" Thatch scoffed and took a swallow from his mug. "'Fraid not. See, that's the thing with maintainin' repute of me sort. The moment I step on their soil? 'nstead of reasonin' like men, the Spanish'd chain me up."

"If we were to go undercover, and bag up the man to take back here, so to say?" Bonnet suggested.

Thatch wheezed a laugh and played out the potential scene, "'Problem, soldier of Spain? Oh- this sack 'ere that could fit a full-grown doctor? Hmm, whuz 'at? What're we smugglin' into our ship in the dead of night?'" he scoffed at the thought, "I've a feelin' the ruse wouldn't play out as we'd like. But, say, that's a darin' ruse to come up with. Spoken like a true pirate. Cheers, mate."

They clinked their mugs, Thatch nonchalant and Bonnet hesitant.

Edward offered his opinion, "It ain't too bum an idea, Bonnet. _I_ could be the one to… _transport_ the chap. The Spanish don't recognize me. Moreover, I could come up with a way to get our man out of Havana without force." Both Thatch and Bonnet appeared intrigued. "Me and my charms have our ways. I could do the subtle work neither of you could do."

Then the other two pirates looked at one another, then back at Edward. Bonnet agreed, "I rather like the sound of it. Comments, Mr. Thatch?"

Thatch twiddled the mug back and forth on the table in thought, "Aye. With Kenway in on the scheme, we _could_ get a doctor. If he's _completely_ in, that is." He eyed Edward seriously, demanding loyalty if the young pirate was going to promise he could and would go through with his word. "Let's not ferget we must pinpoint just where the doc is."

"True that, Thatch," another voice chimed in. Edward looked between his mates to find another familiar face approaching.

"Thought I'd find you lads here after seein' Jackie and the Q-A-R docked," Hornigold placed his hands against the backs of Thatch and Bonnet's seats, "Hopefully celebratin' a newfound solution to this _forsaken_ mess?"

"Actually, yes, Mr. Hornigold," said Bonnet, "We were just discussing Edward's proposal: make off with a doctor from Havana."

"Aye? How, precisely?"

Edward explained, "I sail to Havana, 'convince' a doctor of skill to come along with me, I sail back here, and he heals the town."

Hornigold thinned his lips, "What would you say to the man to lure him this-a-way? It's a chancy ploy."

"Yet it's our most promisin'. What _ain't_ chancy, Ben?" Thatch jabbed, "Merely utterin' a _cuss_ is dangerous and frightenin' to ya, lest ya be _damned_."

"Caution ain't cowardice, Thatch." Hornigold warned.

"Ah, I don't suppose a quarrel will solve our issue, will it gentlemen?" Bonnet offered.

"Don't-" Hornigold turned to the gentleman pirate to lash out at him before pausing and confessing, "Good point. But this plan of yours…? There are other ways."

"Aye? Go on," Thatch urged sharply, "What options do we have?"

Hornigold simply thinned his lips, and no one offered any more ideas.

"Well," Edward clinked of the mug onto the table, "I've had my fill of rum. I think I'll take Jackie for a cruise round these parts. Any of ya lads care to join?"

Hornigold shook his head side to side while still pondering their options while Thatch refused, "Ya have this tendency to get into battle, Kenway, an' I don't want to give in to violence so soon to soldiers that aren't worth it."

Edward lazily saluted a farewell, "Then _adiós_."

"Oh, take Bonnet with ya, Kenway," suggested Thatch, "Hornigold taught me to captain, he an' I both taught ya the ways, an' now its yer turn to teach."

"It would be a learning experience!" Bonnet backed up his chair into Hornigold behind him. With a fleeting apology, he got up hastily to join Edward who was halfway down the steps.

Edward wasn't entirely certain how he felt about it all as he jerked his head towards the docks and continued downward, "Awright, come along, Bonnet."

By Hornigold's frown and pursed lips at the departing men, it was clear he was rather peeved at their lack of contribution towards solving the issue.

* * *

"Another one o' the capn's friends taggin' 'long, eh?" a crewman commented.

"Popular fellow," another replied, "The capn, I mean."

"Dash my buttons," cried Bonnet, beside the helm, "What success you've found, Edward!"

"It's nothing to what I seek, mate," the slimmer blonde responded plainly, looking ahead.

"That you say so heavily," Bonnet chuckled, "I've merely dreamt of journeys like the ones you must undergo daily!" He smiled towards Edward, but was met only with a nod.

Bonnet remained quiet at that, and went over next to a swivel gun to lean against the wooden rail. He admired the way the sunlight twinkled off of the water's surface at innumerable angles. Though he had seen these sights all his life, it was always spectacular how the green of the islands complemented the blues and whites of the seas and sky. His gaze going around and ending up pointed at the Jackdaw's sails, he discovered that the shrubbery was an almost identical hue to the diamond-shaped patches adorning the cloth.

It was far too warm under the noon sun, so Bonnet undid his cravat. And then shrugged off his overcoat. Then he undid the blue sash keeping the coat awkwardly bunched at his bulging waist.

The shuffling grabbed Edward's attention, "If ya wish, Bonnet, you could survey what's below deck. It's far cooler underneath. Shady there."

"Oh, I couldn't! I would surely be a stranger, and I've nothing to say to your men who might wish to strike a conversation with me. I'm much more comfortable in your presence."

By now, they were a good kilometer away from the nearest coast. "I'll show ya around then," Edward replied to his friend before letting go of the wheel and yelling, "We'll bob here a while, lads!" He waved "come along" to Bonnet as he walked past him down the steps.

As Bonnet folded his coat and sash, he responded to Edward's suggestion, "I'd greatly appreciate it, though there's no need."

"You came along to learn, right? Let's go."

In the captain's cabin, Bonnet made remarks about the decor, "A quaint lodge you have, Edward! But doesn't the clutter seem… dull at times? And where is the literature kept?"

"I suppose your quarters are spotless, and lined with volumes?"

"Yes- Aye! Even when Mr. Thatch came along," he nodded at the image of his own cabin, "I don't suppose you have tea? The leaves at the tavern were… damp, and I'm bloody parched!"

Edward half-smiled, unbelieving, "Now, come on mate. If ya wish to manage a band of seasoned sailors, ya don't go about with a tea cup and its matching saucer. I've some rum on the lighter side; have some of that."

He stepped over fallen items on the way to the desk. After shoving around various trinkets and maps covering the wood, he eventually held up and revealed a rusted tin mug. As he went back to the barrels by the double doors, he asked Bonnet, "How does Thatch live with ya? Well, rather- how do you bear one another? From what I remember of his quarters while we privateered, mine could have been said to be _pristine_ in relation to his." He recalled one incident where he awoke to a horde of roaches crawling over him when he once dozed off on a visit to Thatch's.

"Well, one could say I keep things together while Mr. Thatch does the strenuous activities. He's quite the teacher, really! Though it does become difficult at times do night-time reading, what with all our getting knocked about in battle."

"Hmm," Edward responded numbly as he handed over the rusty mug, now filled with a liquid of a vinegary scent, "Here."

"My thanks," Bonnet took the thing, but didn't take a sip.

"Now let's head below deck."

Within the Jackdaw's hull, some of the crew were active.

Some were dozing in their bunks or passed out with a mug or bottle next to them. But in an area just next to the stairwell, two men were engaged in a fight.

"With such brawling about, you're certain the crew ponders not over mutiny?" asked Bonnet.

"A little friendly fighting serves to train the crew, in fact. There's also the added benefits of bonding over the matter."

"Bonding due to fighting? Shouldn't opposite effects be produced?"

"You'd be surprised, mate!"

Escaping out of the grasp of the other, one crewman looked over to two cutlasses on top of barrels nearby. He looked back to the other, and the other nodded. They both eased up and went over to grab a cutlass. As they began to fence, Bonnet's eyebrows raised.

Edward explained, "Now, this is a game we like to play on the Jackdaw- fence until one of ya gets cut."

"What if you get stabbed?"

"That's what makes it fun! But we've established that jabs are not permitted in the game. We've yet to have any tragedies. And the crew knows how to pick rivals of the same skill."

The men poked at each other at first, warming up. Then they began to swing their blades. Bonnet unconsciously tensed at a particularly loud clash.

"Why not try your hand, Bonnet?" Edward asked playfully.

"I couldn't!"

Finally, one of them wounded the other in his arm. Blood trickling down his limb, he extended a hand and shook that of the other man.

"Oi, no ill will," said the injured crewman not to his opponent, but to Bonnet as he approached him and took the still-full tin from his hand, and gulped down the light rum. Offering it back, Bonnet held up a hand in refusal and smiled slightly.

"Your form seems to have bettered, Louis," Edward complimented the wounded man, "But Miguel still stands as the champion of our fencing matches."

Miguel, wiping the cutlasses, grinned and nodded once towards the captain.

Louis winced. "This one could get nasty. Off to see John, then," he stated and set off down the corridor.

"John?" Bonnet inquired to Edward.

"He's our medical man, of sorts. Nothing on the level of saving Nassau, but he can fix up nasty gashes, prevent infections. Let's see how the magic happens."

Bonnet followed his friend deeper into the Jackdaw's underneath.

Along the way, they passed other crewmen passing their time with activities such as playing cards or maintaining their pistols. Edward approached each group of bunks and poked his head in all the rooms in the helm to make a remark:

"Eyo! What's the mood?"

"Swell as ever, Capn!"

In another, where a crewman was solemnly looking over letters:

"If ya worry so all the time, Jack, your mouth will droop as much as your mustache! Pirates are supposed to have a little fun."

"True that, Capn," he sighed and nodded firmly, a small curve of the lip upward suggesting good intentions.

In yet another where two were arm wrestling:

"Fun without me, eh?"

"Just one way to pass time while this search for 'the big one' goes on."

Bonnet couldn't tell if the man speaking was grinning from the captain's lightheartedness or if it was from the armwrestling.

"'The big one?'" Bonnet asked after they left the premises.

After a pause, Edward obliged, "I've come into information about a potential treasure to trump all treasures, Bonnet, and I promised the crew we'd one day locate it. It's one method of keeping up morale. Of course, I don't plan on giving _too_ much of the share," he nodded as they went further into the area, their path lined by fishing supplies, barrels of rum, and broken cannons, "But remember this, Bonnet: a good captain is involved with the lives of his crew." _I suppose I could say 'of his or her crew.'_

"I see! Then I shall keep a log of my lads' activities."

"No, no. Keep up in your _mind_. Doing what you proposed would actually unsettle the crew, mate."

"Ah," Bonnet eyed the broken cannons with more scrutiny, "How many cannons have you, Edward?"

"Thirty and some. When we fix these ones up, perhaps approaching forty."

Bonnet whistled in awe as he pat one of the cannons, "Looking at this magnificent, strong empire you've come to preside over but not acknowledge in order to claim a lack of true authority, you must be pleased with everything, I imagine."

"I know how to have a good time, but it'll never be a complete good time until I hit it big."

"Hmm!" Bonnet agreed, thrilled somehow, "Shall you take on a title like Thatch as Blackbeard for when you _do_ hit it big?"

"No, just simply Edward. But I do like to say that Ed-ward is my given name, and Re-ward is my middle. Would that suffice?"

"Oh, I like the sound of that! Edward Reward Kenway."

He doubtfully yet amusedly eyed the stouter blonde for his odd ways, and nodded slightly, "Aye."

He veered into a small room in the corner. Louis was there on a bunk, and a man Bonnet assumed to be John was standing next to him suturing the wound.

"Hello again, Louis, John," Edward greeted the crewmen, "This is Stede Bonnet, apprentice- you would say apprentice, right Bonnet?- of Blackbeard."

"Pleasure."

"Blackbeard! Impressive!" John gave Bonnet a look of approval.

"And so is what you are doing." Bonnet examined the needle John was using, "What materials do you use?"

"This is a wire of copper and thread of cotton."

"Hmm. And what are your methods of avoiding infection? I realize that's a widespread issue."

Edward looked curiously at Bonnet for his interest in John's work.

"I'm no doctor- not informed at all on natural philosophy for that matter- but I find that using new, scrubbed wire and laundered for those who need a fixing is your best bet for the best price."

"Ah, combining medicine with business," Bonnet nodded, yet looked doubtful- definitely impressed by John's financial acumen (as Edward knew Bonnet himself became wealthy from his own business), but Edward couldn't tell what bothered his friend.

 _Isn't it a given that a doctor treats patients as best they can- no matter the costs?_ Bonnet wondered.

John studied the wound closer, inspiring Louis to do the same.

"Bloody Miguel cut a tad too deep," Louis scoffed, but he did not seem much sour from the deed.

"No shite, Louis."

Leaving the two crewmen to their activities, Edward and Bonnet headed for the steps upward.

"This visit is certainly enlightening, Edward!"

"Fantastic, Bonnet. Truthfully, I hadn't known what to do when Thatch proposed I bring you along. But it's a delight escorting you around. I noticed you seemed particularly focused on John's ways in medicine. Why?"

"Like you, Edward, I'm fond of a comfortable lifestyle. My tea cups are of the finest porcelain, and my robes are of silk tinted with dyes from 'round the world."

"Awright," Edward commented, impressed, "But how does that connect to John?"

"Well, I even installed a library in my quarters, but the books are not just for display, you see. I prefer fiction and manuals on enterprise, but I've also read a good bit on medicine."

They paused to watch a new pair of crewmen dueling with cutlasses. A small crowd had gathered around already to watch as well.

Edward replied, "Fair enough. Anything you read that might apply-"

They all were then cast to the side, and they met the walls. Adé poked his head below deck, "Capn Kenway! Pirate hunters here!"

"Aw, hell," Edward groaned, "When does it end? Ready yourselves, lads! Come along, Bonnet."

* * *

"Ah, finally! Action!" Bonnet practically jumped up and down next to Edward at the helm, while crewmen rushed here and there busily.

 _If you wanted action all this time, Bonnet, you could have said so_ , Edward thought passingly as he focused on how best to make the hunters regret the day they were born. _You could also be aiding the others reload or make quick repairs._

After several more orders to the crew and more exclaims from Bonnet, Edward noticed that the enemy hadn't attacked in an unusually long amount of time. Actually, they were headed _away_ from the Jackdaw. Were they retreating? _But we only scratched them…_

"Oh look, Edward!"

 _Bonnet, not now_ , he thought but said, "They're withdrawing, aye-"

"Behind us!"

Edward quickly looked over his shoulder to find a magnificent galleon. Its sails appeared to be thoroughly patched, like stitching on never-healing gashes. The figurehead from this distance looked to be… a bull? And, my God, how many cannons there were!

Small wonder the hunters fled. "What in all the seas is that?" Edward asked, awed.

"It's the Q-A-R!"

"Ah, that's what Hornigold meant by 'Q-A-R'. What is the Q-A-R?"

"Were you not listening?"

"No. What is the Q-A-R?"

Bonnet looked confused, "'No' as in you _were_ listening, or 'no' as you indeed were not listening?"

"What? No- what does it matter-" now Edward was getting muddled.

"It's Mr. Thatch!"

"Ya sure? A friendly, then?" Edward nodded, not needing an answer from Bonnet, "Awright, lads! We'll save them for another day! Weigh anchor!"

As the Jackdaw crew laid down a plank to bridge the two ships, the combined party of sailors found themselves barraged by cannon balls. The pirate hunters had snuck out from behind a nearby island.

"Are they sane?" Edward wondered aloud, "Do the honor, Bonnet: mortar."

"My pleasure! Kindly set off the mortar, lads!"

Although they went down with just that, the pirate hunters did do a fair amount of last-resort damage to the Queen Anne's Revenge. Some of the crew suffered shrapnel lodged in their skin. Others were lying still on the deck- whether they were merely unconscious or had actually perished was yet unknown. Among them was a large man in an elaborate coat and a hat decorated with a black feather.

Thatch.

The rest of the QAR crew stopped to stare curiously at their captain, making Edward and Bonnet unsettled and cautious as they approached the bodies.

"How fare you, Mr. Thatch?" Bonnet asked downwards.

"Thatch?" Edward urged as he sheathed his blades, "Thatch!"

He and Bonnet exchanged uncertain glances, then Bonnet knelt down. He nudged Thatch…

who immediately sat upright and roared.

Bonnet jerked away and rolled onto his back. Thatch laughed hard, slapping the ledge behind him multiple times after he got up. The crew around chuckled along.

"Damn you to hell, mate," Edward scoffed, but he smiled slightly at the prank.

"Damn me to hell all ya like. I keep returnin' among the living, Kenway," Thatch came over to his friend and slapped him on the back.

Even Bonnet, slowly lifting himself up, grinned, and as Edward considered Bonnet's somehow endurable (and even essential) at-times ingenuous personality, he was reminded of his pastoral life in Bristol, when the dream of luxury was most vivid. He was particularly naïve then. He then wondered what he currently was too inexperienced to understand.

One of Thatch's crewmen gave him a tin of rum and began handing out tins to the rest of the party.

"New friends eventually become old friends, and old friends eventually become old," Thatch proclaimed, "So let's drink while we're young!"

"Says one of the older of us here," Edward smirked playfully.

"Oi now, Kenway."

* * *

 _September, 1717_

"Clip an angel's wings, what the devil is this, Ben?" Thatch indicated the galleon. Its figurehead matched his own expression going full-out with his Blackbeard persona.

"She goes by the name Concord. If ya wish, she could go by some'n else."

"Bullocks."

"Bullocks?"

"Yer not keepin' her for yerself?" he turned to his colleague, his face playfully sour before giving into a genuine smile, "Little Ben can barely hold in the presence of a frigate. With this, I could crush ya with a single blow."

"Watch it, Thatch," he warned, half-joking. _Little Ben? He refers to my ship, right?_

Thatch wheezed a laugh, "It ain't Christmas, Benny Boy! Not me birthday, either!"

"Hah! No pirate can celebrate either holiday without a sturdy vessel, Thatch. Especially not one who claims to rule the damned pirate _republic_. Treat her with yer utmost respect, if ya wish to keep her."

He grinned, revealing a few decaying teeth, "Hell, I'll treat her with the regards I've fer ye, _twofold!_ "

"Well… That's not…" _By God's name, respect me too._ He scoffed and smiled, "A'right."

"Lighten up Benny Boy! Or if it'll make ye happy again, I'll return her to ye."

"No, don't. I'll just leave ya to her, Thatch," he smiled slightly and turned away.

"Aw, join the fun! Remember the time ye freshly got Little Ben. And don't leave me be before I at least give ye this!"

The sideburn-sporting pirate looked back and downward to find Thatch's hand outstretched, "I won't forget this, Ben."

Hornigold, tightlipped as he looked Thatch in the eye, shook his head coyly before grasping the offered hand.

* * *

As I mentioned in the introduction to chapter 0, I will be focusing not only on Kidd and Kenway, but on the other characters as well. They are all so human, even though they had limited screen time in the game. I wanted to explore them further.

Taking a step back and looking at what I'm doing, I'm writing fanfiction about people who once existed in real life. Well, that's what Ubisoft does, doesn't it? Write about people who aren't their own characters? So can we say that the writers at Ubisoft are also fanfiction writers?

So perhaps I wan't being truthful when I said last chapter to find out "next time on Buried Treasure" what Mary had in store for Edward. Next chapter, next month, for sure!


	9. Part 1, Chapter 7

Months late, I know. I'm sacrificing a regular release to make sure this is quality work (unlike Ubisoft in recent times, although they're changing it up this year). As you can see, this chapter's massive. Next chapter should be short, though, so I hope to release it within four weeks.

I'm having trouble with the horizontal lines, so where there's supposed to be a break, you'll find 3 centered periods.

...

 _Part I, Chapter 7_

Caroline didn't mind giving up her inheritance for the scruffy but charming Edward Kenway. On the other hand, along with the strawberry-blonde bombshell, Edward fantasized about a mansion surrounded by the paragon of English gardens. In his mind he thumbed the wool of tailored coats and the silk of curtains.

Eventually, with time multiplying doubt, Caroline began to wonder if it was not her noble deed of rescuing Edward from a fight, but rather her noble background that enticed him in the summer of 1711. Realizing her mistake in marrying the insatiable man, she receded back into the higher class. Caroline wouldn't help her husband realize his potential if she could.

Just before stepping into the waiting carriage packed with her belongings, Caroline looked back at the Kenway cottage, where Edward's mother and father stood just behind the threshold of the front door. They stared emptily at her, a daughter they had hoped to one day have but never did. She couldn't hold their gaze, and instead looked at the front door as she mustered a slight smile to the well-meaning parents of a lost man. Later, she'd wish that she gave them each a hug and a generous bag of coins upon leaving.

A slightly older Edward could not help but compare the two great loves of his life. The former had been from a higher class, as he had wished, but the latter didn't appear to him to belong in any class.

Being aristocracy brought with it all sorts of troubles, he would much later discover. Little did he realize all the fun he had among the common people...

...

"I've a treat fer ye in Havana. Be there by the end o' June if ye want in," she winked, and unsheathed her sword.

 _June 1717_

It took far longer to reach Havana than necessary, according to Edward's mental clock. Despite thinking over his potential activities with Mary countless times, it only occurred to him while walking past the unique colors of the Spanish-styled houses that they had never agreed on a specific location to meet in the city. But, knowing Kidd and her almost criminal-like network of assassins (well, with a name like "Assassins," you'd imagine they were criminals), she would be able to find _him_ in time.

Sure enough, a man dressed like a monk, with simple dark robes and a hood, locked gazes with him as he passed by, and he joined him in his walk and murmured, "Señor Kenway, yes? Kidd has been awaiting your arrival. He said you can find him in a building by the harbourmaster of the south beach. Use your _talent_ to locate it once you are in the area."

"I'm no Kenway."

The man remained silent. Soon, he began deviating from alongside Edward.

"Ah, mate, I'm merely having a little fun," he smirked a bit and struck his shoulder playfully, bringing the hooded man back next to him.

" _Oye_ ," the Assassin muttered, "I know not why Kidd stands with you. I'm just glad I wasn't dispatched after you those years ago- I had just joined the group then, you see."

Now Edward remained mostly silent, giving only a perfunctory snort.

They walked a few uncomfortable seconds more, before the hooded man spoke, "I will go now, señor. Goodbye." He walked away.

 _He could help me locate this building Mary's in_ , Edward thought, but shrugged it off and mounted nearby crates graced with white linen, beginning his rooftop journey south.

Not feeling quite as bitter as he reached the sand, he first located the harbourmaster. There was only one in the area that he sometimes visited to make purchases.

 _Alright. Then the lad said to use my talent to locate the building_. _But which talent?_ ,he pondered, tongue-in-cheek, as he focused his eagle vision. He was getting a strong signal from…

 _There_. A building next to the harbourmaster, as promised. But Mary herself wasn't in there. He couldn't feel her presence. However, he could sense a note nailed right onto a worn pillar on the patio that did have her trace.

It appears I noticed you sooner than you noticed me.

You like games, aye? Come play.

Find the next note around where you as Walpole met our enemy.

If you're quick enough, you might catch me.

Go. Edward dashed westward, towards the governor's manor. _She's challenging me, is she?_

Shite, there were bloody Spanish guards covering every square meter, it seemed. They were on the rooftops, in the shrubbery, within the manor, _everywhere_. And where would he find this note? His eagle vision only reached so far, and would all these guards cause interference with Mary's presence?

They had expanded their security after his breach as Walpole. But the Templars no longer had the mansion since Torres retired, right? Then again, as he had been informed, the Templars controlled plenty of organizations out of the public eye.

He really wished he could pose as Duncan Walpole again, just once more, and enter through the front gate with another " _Buenos días_ ," to save himself time and to perhaps find Mary, who wasn't in the vicinity, as far as eagle vision indicated.

But, lamentably, he was forced to wander along the walls of the manor, walking with the crowds, searching for a potential entry point. He settled for some unguarded scaffolding leading to the estate gardens, which were on higher land. He didn't perceive any guards up there, only shrubbery, and he didn't think anyone would watch him as he climbed up to the not-so-restricted area. After doing just that, he was immersed in philodendrons and ferns. Even with the guards observing nearly every angle and corner of the manor inside and out, he was cloaked.

However, there wasn't shrubbery everywhere, and to get around, he would have to be exposed. A diversion was needed. So, when an unfortunate guard roamed too close, he struck.

It wasn't a kill. Only knocking out the chap was necessary. And he needn't drag the entire body out of sight. _Just_ … he shifted the man's buckled shoe out, _that_ amount of limp leg visible was sufficient.

Edward then produced a whistle so powerful and piercing that perhaps it became heritable. The other guards turned their heads like does in a meadow and began to investigate cautiously. The pirate went further into the bushes, around to where the guards came from, being careful not to make noise or move too abruptly.

 _Jaysus, Mary_ , he cursed at the searching he was obliged to do for a bloody piece of paper, _and Joseph too._

Looked back at the scene he created, in which the guards played fools, he thought, _this is a rather satisfying challenge, though_. This was his go-to trick in these situations for a reason.

He knew there were bound to be some guards that weren't bright enough to question what would happen if everyone in the area inspected the commotion. And there it was: an opening. Nearly every guard left to investigate. Edward snuck deeper into the shrubbery, searching for traces of Mary's presence while nearing the pavilion where he once looked at an important map with Torres, Du Casse, and Rogers. He also recalled pickpocketing the three Templars. The pavilion was a point of interest and it was worth investigating, so he timed his entry with the leaving of the guard passing by the structure.

Sure enough, he sensed scribbles on a note held down by a familiar Templar ring. Scribbles belonging to Mary. He sold that ritzy, useless ring ages ago, so how did it get around back to here? In any case, he read the note:

Good!

Go next to Havana's guard.

Don't like this game? Fret not, I've better ones to play.

Edward reduced his concentration on eagle vision as he thought of where to go next, _She could be referring to the barracks here on the governor's estate. No, it wouldn't be that simple. Does she mean a person? Am I to look for a specific soldier? Jaysus, I don't know. Mary's into these riddles., and I'm not sure why she thinks I'm suitable for them too._

 _A guard… No, not a person- there would be no one specific guard we'd both be familiar with. Guard…ian angel? What the hell am I thinking. Well… they protect you, aye? Guard, like defense… Protection… Something-_ somewhere _, perhaps- that protects and defends the city of Havana. Like a fort? The fort where I left behind Bonnet's sugar._ He nodded. _But there's another fort in Havana, isn't there?_

Looking back at the note, he found that the words were gone! _What in hell…!_ Edward focused his eagle vision again, and the words reappeared. Upon seeing them, he smirked. _Mary's quite something._

He decided to check out the forts, first the one in which he left behind Bonnet's beloved sugar. So he put on the ring and ran the rooftops to _Castillo de San Salvador de la Punta_ , disregarding the yelling rooftop guards more than he usually did. At the fort, he found the note easily- actually, it was on a barrel outside the front entrance- though it was out of sight of the guards inside. It was held down by a rock and read:

You are a _darling_ , Captain Kenway.

Rise to where eagles soar and angels float, almost reaching the sun-lit heavens.

This was much easier to figure out: climb to some spot. Havana boasted many places of spectacular altitudes. There was this fort, the governor's estate, the churches… _Hmm_.

Heaven and angels? Definitely a church. Which one, though? Edward decided on the tallest one, but again met a dilemma: which church was tallest? There was the one by that warehouse, and there was the one by the harbor, where he searched for the tavern with Bonnet a few years back. If not those, then he'd keep going up every church he spotted.

 _This is quite the effort to meet up with Mary when she could just greet me on the docks,_ he thought, _but I must admit this has some entertainment value. Also, I love how these notes are at landmarks, rather than 'in the bush by the green building with the slanting roof.' She could make things more difficult._

Getting to the top of the church by the warehouse required more carefully-executed upward leaps than did the average building in Havana. _Where angles float and eagles soar, Mary?_ Concentrating, he found no trace of anything that could be hers.

She probably meant the other church! He looked over to the direction of the other church and spotted its bell tower, but he couldn't tell which building was higher. To add to his frustrations, it seemed that that other church was closer to the fort. Edward hadn't chosen the right place, to his dismay. _The church is pale yellow. Like the sun, which she mentioned in the note. Drag me to hell, that wouldn't have taken much more thinking._

He got back on the right track by returning to the ground then running over to the pale yellow church and climbing its walls.

He first looked down over the ledge two steps to the side, three steps from death. Then, looking towards the horizon, he found that the view was rather spectacular. One could see the Jackdaw, the governor's estate, the other isles far beyond-! Ah, there _were_ eagles soaring! One of the birds glided into Edward's view, a few meters away. _Were there more?_ Tilting his head back and swiveling his body around, his eyes focused on the glinting cross and he forgot about the birds. A slip of paper pierced by the top of the cross made his eyes widen despite the brightness of the cerulean sky that had caused him to squint. *

 _How did she figure I'd be able to scale the edifice- or find this at all?_ He asked himself as he balanced himself about the cross. _But I suppose I_ am _succeeding._

I want to see your dive.

His eyes widened. _From up on the cross_ and _as she's watching from God knows where- no doubt evaluating my fall? Mary just_ saw _my dive if she is truly watching, so this note was placed a while ago._ He peered down and inwardly scoffed, afterwards folding the paper and pocketing it. Then he hurdled over the edge of the spire onto the lower ledge a couple meters under. On that level was the usual overhang, for some reason now sprinkled with seeds that birds liked to peck at.

As a man with only too much experience leaping from high places into conveniently-placed wagons of hay and piles of leaves below (he never really realized how much he should be thanking lady luck that he hadn't had any noticeable injuries from those falls), it was strange how the wagon appeared farther down and less cushiony than usual from where he was perched on the ledge. Edward swallowed drily as he crouched up from his position and rushed forward. He felt a rush nearly as great as the first times he leapt from such a height, his arms now extended to his full wingspan. He briefly joined the birds in flight around him before making his descent, flipping himself over to land facing up.

Then he swung himself over and out of the wagon, his peripheral vision picking up a familiar face and familiar gold clothing.

"Ten out'a ten, Kenway!" Mary smiled mischievously, leaning against the wagon, "Would've been extra from the cross, but eh! Ye've now satisfied my need to watch ye runnin' 'bout," using her elbow, she pushed herself away from the side of the wagon and supporting herself fully on her booted legs, "I'm glad to see ye, mate."

"It's about bloody time, Kidd," he brushed off the last of the hay as the the few people who were awed and curious at watching his leap disbanded, "But why the frolic? It seems too trite for your liking."

"An' to 'at I say that I'm not so solemn e'ery minute o' the day. C'mon- less drink b'fore more games. Makes 'em twice as fun," she started towards the tavern on a route Edward took two years earlier with Stede Bonnet, "Though I _do_ have a reason fer this note business. T'was s'pposed to make ye feel good 'bout yerself- not in a prideful manner, as yer 'customed to- but so ye no'ice yer capabilities," her gaze stayed on the road ahead. _I've faith you'll notice._

Edward, behind her, simply nodded, and Mary wasn't certain if he was processing what she said or simply wasn't listening. Either way, while they passed by all sorts of fascinating and exotically-dressed people, buildings of bright hues left and right, and the azure Caribbean sky above, Edward's eyes remained intent on his fellow pirate as he asked, "So you watched everything from afar, aye?"

She seemed to think awhile before answering, "Aye. Problem?"

"I just wish to know what ya thought of my performance."

"Oh! Splendid! Though I wonder 'ow we'd fare 'gainst one 'nother, like in a race," she briefly looked back, a smile growing, "Ah! 'Ow 'bout we do so later, after sunset?"

"Aye, after drinks!" he replied thirstily. He recalled another matter he wanted to ask her, and reached out to tap her arm, "Oi- how'd ya know I was around before ya posted that first message?"

"I saw Jackie's black flag, simple as 'at," she regarded his 'of course!' expression with amusement, "But I kept me distance from ye since the start. Didn't want ye sensin' me."

"Right. So I suppose ya didn't post every note? I would've sensed ya then."

"Aye! Good thinkin'. A mate from the Order aided me- did the fieldwork under me command. A favor o' sorts."

Edward smirked slightly, "Hah! And I suppose by 'Order' ya refer to _yours_ and not… the _other_?" He wasn't so sure if he was permitted to speak the titles aloud.

"Aye, aye. I've yet to encounter an… _agreeable_ member o' _theirs_ ," Mary answered.

Edward nodded and made a mental note to keep "Assassin" and "Templar" out of his public vocabulary. "And how did you write the messages so that the words went unseen?"

"Ye ne'er noticed so b'fore now? E'en when acceptin' our orders to finish off somebody?" Edward sensed her concentrating her eagle vision, perhaps making sure corrupt ears wouldn't hear this information. She lowered her voice to nearly murmuring, "The ink ye see is in truth blood- _mah_ blood, so that ye detect some'n o' mine with yer talent, aye? I dipped the blood-soaked, cloth-like paper in a chemical we manufactured. 'Em chemicals rid o' the red, yet keep the glow only those with our extra sense can detect. So don't be awed at me fer the disappearin' trick; the credit goes to 'em who produce our chems."

Edward raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Jaysus, ya've got people on that work?"

"Not all those in the Order work in eliminatin' or healin' or leadin'. We're all to work behind the scenes, but some, e'en more so. Now, this is a secret o' ours, so keep it vaulted."

"Right. So ya _cut_ yourself just for this, Kidd?"

"Aye. I do so whene'er I'm out o' disguise, ye might recall," she replied before looking slyly at her blonde friend, "Oi, why don't ye try wearin' rouge yerself? _Ah_ , more ideas fer the future! Less do so sometime! Applyin' rouge an' more products on ye… that'd be an experience," she smirked at his frown, "Eh, for now 'at black stuff ye smudge on yer eyes suffices."

He scoffed playfully, "Everyone does it…"

Mary's own lined eyes softened as she chuckled.

...

After drinks, and avoiding tavern fights, Edward let Mary go on with her itinerary. Though, whether or not she was sure what her plans were was doubtful…

"Oii," she grabbed Edward's shoulder with more grip than he was used to as they walked though the exit of the tavern, "Less prank 'em _Temps_ , mate, eh?" She held out what Edward recognized as a contract from the Assassins' pigeon cages.

 _I suppose she_ is somewhat _aware of her plans for today,_ he fondly observed. He thought _he_ had been thirsty, and he thought _he_ was the type to be quickly influenced by the presence or absence of alcohol. Then again, she _had_ been gulping down pint after pint back at the tavern. To be honest, he was a little curious about her bladder capacity. But he nodded cordially at her proposal, "Would be a pleasure, Kidd. How so?"

"Mm, we'll jus' arrive an' we'll go from there. More surprises, hooray. C'mon," she grabbed again just above his elbow and pulled him towards wherever the hell they were going. Edward, intrigued, went along with it.

It didn't take them long to find the place, filled with a considerable crowd of Spanish soldiers, and a good amount of them Templar, Edward assumed. Those on the rooftop couldn't spot the soon-to-be troublemakers behind a pillar on the structure across the thoroughfare.

"Gimme yer pipe," Mary requested.

"For smoking? For darts…?" Edward's right hand went to his belt for the first item, his left to his back for the latter.

"Hah! Yer _smokin'_ one o' _course_ so we steart a heart-to-'eart when they spot the risin' puffs an' look down to meet our glazed, smilin' faces. _No_ , the one fer _darts_ , mate."

Edward grabbed the blowpipe and handed it back to her, its previous owner, as the corners of his lips curled up a tad. He didn't think she could get much more sarcastic than she usually was. (Oh, what rum could do.) _I think I'd take pleasure in seeing her and Thatch battle against one another with words as opposed to swords._

"Ah! There's a guard havin' a siesta, without the aid o' our darts. See?" Mary nodded towards where, Edward supposed, a guard was napping, "I wonder what'd occur if we were to shoot 'im."

He spotted him in a shaded area on a balcony. "I've never tried that. What _would_ happen?"

She shot the snoring fellow, and he jerked up quickly, a natural reaction to get away from whatever disturbed him. But he got no more than five blinks awake before flopping onto the ground again, going to sleep in a position far less graceful than the one he was in previously.

"Hmm," Mary hummed, mildly amused but barely satisfied, "Yer not much fun."

They creeped around on the rooftops to the other side of the building in search of a situation to royally muck up, and a situation they did find.

In a secluded area around the exterior of the building was a soldier leaning coolly against a column. Edward imagined he was doing that in hopes it would increase his appeal to the lady he was talking to. She, meanwhile, was facing away from him as they conversed and kept starting to speak while he was still speaking, indicating to Edward that she wasn't interested. She probably wanted to leave as soon as possible.

 _The guards in this building are rather slothful_ , Edward was entertained by this.

"Ohohoh, this'll be more excitin'." Mary shot.

The woman slumped, and the guard caught her limp body.

Edward raised his eyebrows, "Ya shot the _lass_? Wicked of ya, Kidd. I like it."

The guard propped her up against the wall, and looked around hastily for what caused this. He glanced through the windows of the building, and walked briskly around nearby bushes while waving a sword through the vegetation.

Seeing no one and nothing out of the ordinary besides what just occurred, and seeing no one in the vicinity, he went back to her body. He took her and carried her to the shrubbery. Using eagle vision, the two pirates saw that he was reaching up the skirt of her dress.

" _I'm_ bein' wicked, ye say, Kenway?" Mary fished through her pockets for another sleep dart.

"Aye, that ain't so great of him," Edward agreed. _He could have accomplished that while she was alert! Rather than actively using his charms to seduce her, he waits for an opportunity to take advantage of her? Indolence if I've ever seen it._

Mary made the guard unconscious, and they waited. In a minute the woman woke up to find the guard's hands at her feet. Her expression of horror and disgust was _priceless_ , and she screamed and kicked the still-sleeping guard away. She then got up and dashed out of the area, her hands pulling up her skirt to keep it from hindering her escape.

The two pranksters laughed unabashedly, as no one was around to notice them. But then two more fellows in yellow arrived at the scene, and as they noticed the peculiarity of their unconscious comrade and went over to him, Edward had an idea.

He whispered, "Oi, Kidd. Hand me the blowpipe."

Mary tilted her head towards Edward and looked at him crossly, playfully annoyed, "Ye know, whate'er 'appened to 'Jim?' Call me Jim."

"Alright, Jimmy," he smiled crookedly, "Blowpipe, please."

He swiftly loaded the weapon with a berserk dart and shot the resting guard.

" _Ah_ , I see what ye did. A large dose o' drugs, 'at is."

The guard didn't wake immediately, as Edward expected. The other two squatted and poked at him, causing him to twitch. They looked at each other, not simply confused but a little _scared_. Then, as if shot by lightning, the lying-down soldier grunted and spasmed awake. He slid himself on the ground away from his associates, making scratching sounds as he scraped the pebbles beneath him. Meanwhile the two guards rose from squatting and approached him, speaking in Spanish that grew into shouting when he got up as well.

Those two soldiers should have known what to expect. The frantic guard unsheathed his sword in what probably to him was self-defense. Although he had a smaller physique than his two burly colleagues, he mutilated them by swiftly unsheathing his sword and slashing them down. They didn't have the chance to yell for backup.

Blood flowed from the throat of the first guard cut, and, stunned and unable to shout, he reached for his neck. Meanwhile, the drugged guard ripped apart the other guard by swinging his sword desperately at him, as if he was blind. Although, it wasn't as if he was seeing using reason, anyhow.

One bloodied guard fell, then another, neither having put up much of a fight.

Sword in hand, the mad guard twisted his head around wildly in search for more victims. Edward and Mary kept their heads sticking up over the parapet in order to see well, but they remained like statues.

The air was tinted with a metallic odor from the blood, and the drugged guard dropped his weapon and reached up towards his head. Gripping his hair, the guard pulled out small but certainly painful clumps of hair. He opened his mouth wide, as if he was about to shout, but all that came out were gurgling noises. Then a clear, pale yellow and slightly bubbly liquid cascaded down his chin and neck into his clothing. The substance turned red.

Not long after, the soldier began to cough wheezingly and leaned forward desperately like he wanted to walk. Catching a glimpse of his eyes, the pirates saw that they were quite bloodshot. He slumped onto the ground then, landing on his sword. Another wheeze, and he lay still.

"So that's what happens," Edward commented, a bit unsatisfied since it wasn't so different than simply shooting the guy with only a berserk dart, "It might actually be helpful to use on yourself in a scuffle, if it didn't kill ya at the end."

Mary smirked towards him before shifting her attention to her hand, "Aw. Last dart," she held out a lone blue projectile.

"I can craft plenty more. I've bones from hunting."

"Swell!," she grinned, "Just 'ow many more can ye make?"

"Pshh… Well over fifty?"

Mary cocked her head, "Ye've o'er _fifty_ animal bones 'andy? Where do ye e'en _store_ 'em?"

"This garb has these contraptions known to common man as _pockets_ , Jim."

She looked skeptically at the apparent abyss that was his coat pocket, and shrugged as Edward fashioned darts out of the bones.

A sleep dart crafted, Mary searched for another situation worth causing mischief in. After the remaining guards completed one circuit around the building, raising fairly little concern at the sight of the slaughter, she found one.

"'Ere we go," she whispered, blowpipe raised like a clarinet. As a guard was walking by, she turned the weapon up fully and shot. Edward saw the guard get squashed by another guard falling from above.

He chuckled freely, none of the Spanish soldiers able to hear him as the crushed guard yelled and shoved the sleeping guard away from on top of him.

After seeing that his coworker was unconscious, the crushed guard rubbed a part of his back that now ached and went inside the building. He emerged some long seconds later with a pail of water. He splashed the sleeping guard, and he woke up after a few moments. They spoke angrily to one another.

"What did they say?" Edward asked his partner in crime.

"Eh, some'n like unconscious an' not rememberin' an' all," Mary began to slur again. "If ye'd be so good to 'old this," she wiggled out of her coat and handed it to him. Then she untied her bandana and tied it around her wrist instead. The string that held up her hair came off next. Lastly, she flicked out a hidden blade, pressed it against the tip of her thumb, and smeared the blood over her lips. The hair tie served as a bandage for the small wound.

Edward watched the process with amusement, "Not going to remove," he paused and stared at the tattoo she began exposing, "whatever constricts your chest?"

"I ain't wearin' constrictors," Mary looked at him with an eyebrow raised, puzzled.

"Oh!" _Shite, that's an insult ain't it…_ "Oh…" This is when his charm manifests, when it shines most brightly (as a light becomes a saving godsend at night). Usually. But not now, God save him.

After all, he had never wanted to impress a crossdressing woman before.

"Christ, Edward!" she snickered, "If only I 'eld a lookin' glass right now- yer face!" she laughed out loud, "I'm meddlin' with yer mind now, mate!"

Edward scoffed, relieved, "Jaysus!" _An eye for an eye, eh?_ He thought back to the Assassin who "welcomed" him to Havana hours earlier. "Ya know- you're the most dutiful of men at times. Then ya pull off something like this," he smiled.

"C'mon, man. Thought _yer_ the entertainin' charismatic type 'mongst our mates, while I was the 'dutiful' an' 'serious' one o' few words. Seems we often reverse 'em roles on our trysts, eh? In any case, I won't remove 'em now. Too much to lug about on yer part."

Thinking about her comment, he found that it was true: he brought life to parties while Mary remained at the perimeter. But whenever it was just the two of them alone, Mary would be carefree and he would be more withdrawn and modest than usual. It was as if they adjusted their personalities to what the other was like. _She's fancied me for a while, hasn't she?_ That made him feel very delighted, and he smiled without concerning himself about what he would answer were he asked why he held that expression. He could even sing, if he had more mugs of rum to blame it on. Mary matched his grin, and he responded with further glee, "Awright. Why go as a lass now?"

"See 'at guard?" she pointed down towards a man in yellow uniform. He seemed to be protecting something behind him, in a recess in the building. "I'ma use the Spanish language 'gainst 'im."

Edward was impressed at the idea. It could go well, depending on what exactly occurred. "Hmm! Just _what_ will ya tell him?"

"I'ma tell 'im- um, uh," she thought with haste, "I'ma tell 'im the Spaniards ain't got nothin' 'gainst the Brits. Some'n like 'at. Jus' watch, mate, an' use 'at extra sense o' yers once we get out o' sight."

 _Does this involve me having to escape?_ he considered asking but decided he'll see for himself once the mischief began. She descended the side of the building to a street out of sight of the guard, and went up to him. He eyed her forbiddingly but with some degree of curiosity.

Edward heard Mary say something to the guards in a soft voice, though he couldn't understand the words she spoke. She was also putting her weight on one leg, the other going away from her, which was a pose she never made. _Is she reducing her height?_ The Spaniard responded to her in an unbelieving tone.

Then she responded… invitingly? The guard sounded hesitant in his response, still. She then took his arm and led him into the recess in the building, where it was shady and out of view of anyone passing by. _Oh, so she's getting out of sight with_ him. _Aye, I can't see them with my regular eyesight._ He focused his eagle vision, and… _What in hell?_ The guard was wrapping his arm around her back, and he-

God, he was about to kiss her?!

Edward felt something dark and bitter consume his mind. What the hell did they talk about? He should be the one to do that, not some bloody Spaniard they've never seen in their lives!

Before their lips met, she broke the embrace and shouted something mocking at the guard, laughing wickedly while at it. Edward could hear her voice more clearly, and it was quite deeper than how she was speaking earlier. She also stretched to her full height. The guard backed away quickly, stunned. He appeared thoroughly flummoxed.

Mary then spun around and dashed away. She approached a busy street, and she reached for something she was hiding in the red sash around her waist. Edward had a good idea what that was; she had used it on him when he was after her, for being after Laurens Prins. After setting off the smoke bombs, she plowed into a busy street and passed the crowds to go around a corner and snake around the grid of buildings. Then she used a lift to swiftly get to the roof. Meanwhile the angry guard had wheezed upon running into the smoke, and searched confusedly in the streets and among the crowds for her, without success.

Soon Edward found Mary was joining him in his hiding spot up on the corner of the roof. "What sort of caper did ya pull off, mate?" he asked more sternly than he intended to.

"Actually, I beckoned 'im with effeminate charm, tellin' 'im I'm English but British men don't do it fer me while Spaniards _do_." she crouched and sat down, leaning her back against the parapet, "Said I was lookin' fer a good time now, if he'd oblige. Then at the right moment I made meself a lad, an' _tha'_ rattled 'im!" she laughed hard.

He grinned slyly, "Ya little witch! Come here!" and he pulled her towards him by her arm and gripped her shoulders with one arm and her waist with his other.

They fell onto their sides, "Oi! What in 'ell!" Mary was taken by surprise but didn't resist.

"Aw, consider how I feel, mate. I've never gotten to hold ya, but some stranger does? Injustice!" underneath her, he snug his chin on her left shoulder. It was nice being close to her.

"Fine, fine, Edward," she chuckled and squeezed him back gladly. She pressed one of her outstretched legs against his. "Yer free an' easy attitude's contagious," she said.

He made a satisfied sound and thought aloud, "Particularly with drinks, right?"

"Is this what it's like bein' ye?"

"Somewhat. I don't cross-dress, though, and I can't speak Spanish."

"Quite a pity, actually, ye ain't comprehendin' of it. With yer charm, man, ye'd come up with much more comical diversions on the spot. go' to plan it all out b'fore."

"How about ya teach me then?" he grinned at her.

" _Claro que sí._ O' course. Sometime. Per'aps teach me a bi' o' Welsh in return, eh?" she pat him on the shoulder. Then, getting an idea, she exclaimed, "Oi Edward, less go right in where the action is!" and she got up and rushed over to the main building of the place mentioned in the assassination contract. There, a few guards still remained, unaware of what had been going on since they were patrolling the areas away from where he and Mary had messed with.

"Your coat-!" Edward grunted as he pulled it out from underneath him. He then hid it inside one of the crates next to him. He then maneuvered across the rope-wire, hopped onto the ground with minimal noise, and sneaked inside the shrubbery where she was. They were in a court: in the middle of the property and surrounded by the building at all sides. Though, one could get back to the streets by using an archway.

"Craft me some darts, Edward," she requested.

From inside the shrubbery they blew sleeping darts at every soldier who came across the court. When guards walked in to see the sight and walked over to investigate, they went down too. It was a marvelous cause-and-effect relationship of investigating the scene only to join the others in their slumber because they got close enough to be shot.

In total, they put seven guards to sleep all in the same area.

The pirates snickered ever so quietly before a Havana citizen scurried into the area from the streets and searched the sleeping guards for coin.

It took effort to further stifle their bursting laughter, but they shared the humor through mutual pats on the arm that didn't rustle the shrubbery too much.

A guard the fool hadn't spotted yelled at him while approaching the scene, and the thief gave chase. The guard matched his pace not three seconds later, and Edward amusedly snorted at the mischief. Unfortunately, the thief did not have the escaping talents Edward, Mary, and the other Assassins were skilled at, and the guard tackled him among a distressed crowd. He retrieved the money and kicked the man for his apparent disruption of peace, a public display of what happens to those who had no regard for authority.

The thief pulled himself up, and he raised his arms in defense when the guard yelled at him. Then he staggered into the crowd, becoming obscure in both vision and notoriety.

"Fight _back_ , mate," Edward murmured.

Back to roaming around the Templar-infested building, the guard put the pouch of money alongside his own on his belt. He passed the still-sleeping guards but didn't redistribute the coins among his colleagues.

"Ah, scandalous!" commented Mary, entertained more than bothered, to Edward's surprise. "'Ere comes another. Less see 'ow he behaves…"

The approaching guard's stopped in his tracks at seeing the group of his dozing coworkers. He turned and looked around curiously, tilting his head at angles that would have caused Edward's neck to crack. Then he looked at the bush the two pirates were in.

One of them- Edward wasn't sure if it was him or Mary- inhaled not quite inaudibly in suspense at that, then the guard ceased looking around and crouched down.

He lay on his back and joined his workmates in napping on the job.

Mary and Edward snickered and slapped each other playfully, jostling the leaves a little more now. _This_ was a first!

" _¡Intrusos!_ "

The two pranksters looked behind to find a Spanish soldier pulling back some branches of shrubbery to reveal them.

"Shiteshiteshite!" Edward jumped up and shoved the man away, the brambles slapping him from the guard letting go, though that wasn't a huge concern right now. He pulled Mary up by her arm and they made for the exit while the guard got to his feet.

" _¡Cógelos!_ "

He didn't need to be fluent in Spanish to know to _run_. They dashed out an archway, around a corner, then up some crates onto the rooftops. Mary peeked behind her and was frustrated to spot a few guards hot on their trail. She briefly looked upwards on the roof she and Edward hoped to clamber up onto, and saw more rushing in their direction.

"Aw 'ell, Edward!" she jumped for wires that ran across roofs of buildings and pulled herself up, "Less split up!"

"What- no!" _especially since you're still a bit sloshed_ , he climbed up the rest of the building via wall ledges then ran across the same wires to catch up to her.

Edward ended up running into a fight between her and two guards. And Mary was… she was only using her hidden blades?

Shite! He saw that she had no swords along her waist. Actually, forget shite- this was the result of consuming spicy paella with spoiled milk and a helping of sand from the bottom of the sea! He's seen her in a fight, and he's seen her when she's drunk, but not simultaneously. Diplomatically put, she was at a disadvantage, and with more behind him joining the fun… Edward held his own against perhaps five opponents, but he wasn't confident in his skills to protect not just himself against a group but an ally as well.

He unsheathed his swords and turned around to face the incoming soldiers- three of them for now.

They attacked like they were angry: a sign of inexperience. Edward caught two of them trying to go for a flanking attack, but parried the earlier soldier so that he stumbled towards his friend. The other soldier gave his colleague a considerable gash on his arm, and Edward had minimal trouble finishing off the two stupefied men with a stab and a disarm to one guard, and a parry and a stab to the other. _Amateurs!_

He quickly checked back on Mary before the third Spanish guard could attack, and did so in time to see the now-disarmed soldier she was fighting land a hit and yell, " _¿Piensa usted que puede ganar contra un hombre, puta_?" **

Though she was knocked back by an unarmed guard, the other guard she was against now lay motionless, and this one still fighting needed to acquire a weapon. Impressive!

 _Really_ impressive, actually.

Still wondering how she accomplished that, he turned back to face this next soldier, who ended up being a one-hit kill. But more guards crossed the wires. He saw that one had lost balance and lay still on the ground below, to the horror of Havana denizens who probably wanted no drama in their afternoon shopping.

Preoccupied with three of the men in yellow (actually, this flock attacked one at a time, the dimwits), Edward heard a screech behind him- the kind that metal made when it breaks. The sound a sword makes when it becomes dead and useless.

Then he heard glass breaking. He was tempted to shift his focus _completely_ from these guards to her, he was so curious what was going on.

But a guard swung his sword down on him in an attempt to pin him down, producing a spectacular clash with Edward's own swords. Edward pushed him away, before the others could have their chance to spear him in the back. Then- Mary practically pounced on the guy like she was on higher ground, and she drove the shards of a broken bottle into his neck.

What in _hell_?! Edward was startled.

She withdrew the bottle almost completely, so that a little was still lodged in the wound, and she drew it across his throat. It occurred in less than a second, but the animalistic nature of the act left Edward mesmerized. If he didn't snap out of his reverie just then, the injury he would have gotten from the next attacking Spanish soldier would have been much more than a blood-letting cut.

While dueling this scoundrel, Edward noticed a bent and badly-chipped hidden blade on the ground. Perhaps that was what made that noise earlier. They reminded him of how Duncan Walpole's turned out. Then he got to thinking he didn't want Mary meeting the same fate as Walpole, whom she once called brother.

The next thing he knew, the blade end of a sword was sticking straight out of the Spanish soldier. he was fighting Edward's expression, though he himself wasn't aware of it, took on that of the soldier, with less of the despair and more of the shock. The sword disappeared and was replaced with a growing dark red shape.

Before the man collapsed, Mary behind him grabbed his pistol and shot the third guard Edward was fighting. It seemed he was too afraid to fight but hesitant to leave. His loss. Then Mary, alerted by the shouting of the next and hopefully last wave of guards approaching, shot the incoming soldiers with aim that no one intoxicated should have managed.

At this point, she was so effective a killing machine that Edward let her take the rest of them. There were two left, but she had run out of bullets. So she threw the pistol at them, causing the guard in front to lose balance and almost fall before hanging by the wires by his fingers. While the soldier behind him made it across, Mary took out what her fingers could next grab: the broken bottle.

She deflected this guard's blow with the sword and drove the bottle into the side of his neck, like she did with that other foe. Almost at the same time, she kneed him below the belt in order to get him on his knees before he could attempt to strike her again. He did get down and let go of his weapon in the process. With a blow to the side of his head using the hilt of her sword, he was down.

The second guard went down too, quite literally, after a kick to the chest. Luckily, no bystanders below were physically harmed by his fall, as the streets were mostly empty now.

Edward looked down around him, and saw that he almost couldn't see the roof there was so much blood. They both had a few cuts, but neither of them were shot or were bleeding profusely.

He turned to her to see how she was doing, his unease apparent only to perceptive eyes. Mary was breathing heavily as she stood slightly hunched, the Spanish guards' blood having stained her shirt. Edward imagined that if she had been wearing her gold coat, she would have matched the soldiers' uniforms. She almost had as much blood on her as they themselves did, though her red spatters certainly boasted more variety in where they came from.

Mary dropped the bottle and sat on the parapet, and he saw just how much she was panting.

After a few seconds of collecting themselves, he spoke, "Ya recovered with the aid of a broken bottle, aye? I've forgotten to do something like that in a fight. Ya alright?"

"Aye, I'm fine" she claimed, though she shut her eyes tight and shook her head. The head-shaking probably made her feel ill, Edward thought, when she covered her forehead with her palm and combed back the hair sticking to her forehead with her fingers. She then said, "Sorry. Ye didn't need to know I could be…"

"What? So ferocious? That-!"

"I _really_ shouldn't fight while pissed- mostly in the sense o' 'angry,' but also in the sense o' 'squiffy.'"

Edward scoffed, "That was _incredible_! No need to be ashamed."

She only scoffed back and gazed at the mess of yellow and red, "'At blowpipe I gifted ye in Tulum was quiet an' effective. This-" she stood up delicately to keep her balance, "This is _simple_ an' effective, I guess." She licked at her teeth and spit out some blood.

"That I see," he turned his gaze down towards the corpses.

Mary sighed, "I should swap me garb fer unsoiled ones," she took part of the bottom of her blouse with both her hands and studied the stretched, bloody material, "Where's me coat?"

"In a crate back there."

Mary nodded remorsefully, the memory of removing the coat and leaving it behind surfacing, "Less go reclaim it. 'Ats me best-loved coat." She regarded the slaughtered soldiers somberly for a moment, then turned back.

Never had Edward seen her this unwell and so disappointed with herself. He imagined that her head hurt and that she felt dispirited far more than she let on, "Awright, but don't chide yourself over this, mate. You're far deadlier than I am like this."

"Is 'at a good thing?"

 _Well…_ He was at a loss for words before he shot back, "Well, ya call yourself an assassin."

She looked at him blankly, and Edward began to anticipate a punch- or something worse, considering what she just did to the soldiers. He had slighted her cause, and he knew how seriously she took her cause.

Mary simply curved a corner of her lips upward, "Fair point. _An'_ I'm a pirate. Don't either o' us ferget 'at. 'Em who come after us should know what to expect, aye?"

"That's the spirit. And it ain't like these lads were saints, Ki- _Jim_ ," Edward clapped her on the back and remembered she wasn't in disguise, " _Mary_."

She then reached over to tousle his apparently _gorgeous_ blonde locks, and he lamented not rubbing in some chemicals in it to more thoroughly wash and tidy it.

The two of them stepped over the bodies and headed back to the building where they had pranked the guards. Then they sought out the crate on the roof where Edward insisted he'd left it, but even with eagle vision concentrated, the pirates were unsuccessful in finding the gold coat.

"Yer _posi'ive_ ye left it 'round 'ere?" Mary asked anxiously.

"Aye."

"Flames of 'ell! It ain't the same without 'at coat," she looked at something in the distance, thinking.

Edward grunted a cursory sympathy, and he stood there as she thought.

At last, she sighed and commented, more to herself than to Edward, "It'll be a while till me tailor fashions 'nother. But I'll go on without it. I've others, anyway, though they're o' lesser quali'y. Less return to 'at shack by the beach b'fore the law pries too 'ard 'bout our stained garments."

They headed south, crossing a rope-wire back to the corner where the bodies lay.

"Still 'ere," Mary said, plainly.

"Not going anywhere soon, at least not by their own will."

"Hah!" she smiled, though painfully, at the dead Spaniards, "Who does pick 'em up ye think? They don't jus' rot out 'ere. Not in a large town." She crouched down and shut the lids of one soldier.

"How am I to know who picks them up?"

Mary went on, "Would it be some good Samaritan? People-ea'ers? The government? The Templars? Though, the government an' the Templars _are_ in bed with one 'nother."

Edward brought his hand up and examined the Templar ring on his finger, "How did ya get the ring around to here, Mary?"

"Ah, 'at ring at the second note?" she looked up at him from her crouch, "I found it at a shop- it may not e'en be the same 'at made our order go after ye."

Edward, eyebrows raised from contemplating her words as he twisted the ring around his finger, nodded.

Mary chuckled, looking elsewhere, "It cost me ten bloody reales! 'At's 'ow priceless it is!" she got up, "Give it 'ere."

Upon receiving the ring, she examined the insignia on it, "Ye won't miss it if I leave it 'ere as a memento for these gents?"

"By all means," he motioned to the bodies. So she tossed the ring into the sea of bodies, and neither of them missed it.

They looked at each other satisfied, and noticing once more how attractive Edward was, Mary looked away and smirked.

"Oi. Look," she nodded towards something in the distance.

Edward turned his head in that direction and took in the sun at a spectacular angle. At this time of day, one could look upwards in an arch and watch the sky transition from a orange to a pink to a purplish blue.

He felt something pleasant and simply said, "Aye." _When last have I felt so content at something so ordinary?_

"Nice, mm? I prefer sunrises, though."

"Hmm," he felt some criticism from that statement, but he imagined the blue hues transitioning into warmer shades at dawn, and replied "Ya know, I might agree with ya."

Mary nodded, "I had fun today. Now I be'er make sense of 'ow ye think," she looked away from the sunset, _And you know that I can be like that_ , she thought dejectedly. "This was an experiment as well, in a sense."

"Experiment? Ever the scientist aren't ya, Mary." Edward didn't entirely like the sound of that. Was he simply a plaything? And regarding the Assassins- was she figuring out how an "enemy" like him thinks, so that she could report back to the order? Should he inquire about it at all? On the latter he settled on no.

"Well, I don't mean it so gravely like," she stared at the some nothingness below in search of the best words, "I merely wanted to know more 'bout ye, an' this is 'ow I learn."

"Ah, I see." _That's understandable. Doesn't everyone learn differently._ "I got to assuming I was a plaything."

"We're each other's playthin's," she smiled at him, the sun emphasizing the slight green in her eyes, "I don't know. In what way would ye put it? Yer a master with words. I ain't."

To that, Edward laughed aloud, "Jaysus, do ya not see how I sometimes stumble with words around ya?"

"Like when ye disclosed yer affection fer me?"

"Oi, how about we not discuss that part of it," he shook his head, though he grinned, "Shite, did I actually do that so inelegantly?"

"No, no! Well, ye did, aye, but truth be told, I liked it! I didn't know ye could be like 'at. I s'ppose I'm special," Mary chuckled warmly.

That response was enough to make him laugh along easily with her, and look back on the faux pas on his social record fondly rather than with shame.

"Okay, Kenway. 'Ow's one more game sound?"

"I'm keen. But your head. Are ya feeling fine?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Aye. The rum's gone through nearly completely. Me head's fine. Nothin' to trouble either o' us."

There was still a hint of concern in his nod, "How's it go?"

"Simple: he who gets to the south beach first-" she bit at her tinted lip, "or _she_ who gets there first- wins. _But_ ye can't come back down to the ground till ye reach the coast," she paused to think, "We need a particular place to meet, aye?" more thinking, "…How's 'at south-mos' tower-like structure of 'at high wall surroundin' Havana? Ya go' tha'?"

It took him a few second to mentally locate the structure, and he nodded, "What's at stake?"

She momentarily gawked, "This _could_ be done jus' fer fun, _but_ , at yer insistence, we could throw in a few 'undred reales."

"Awright. How's five?"

"A bold amount, mate. I like it," she said confidently.

"Settled, then," Edward nodded, "Ready?"

"As ev-," she looked around where they were, "Actually, ye see 'ow there's this wire goin' across the roofs 'ere, and there's another goin' across o'er there? 'Ow 'bout we each start from the ends of one? Yer pick on which."

"I'll take this one," he walked over to the rope-wire more east, closer to the docks, leaving the other to Mary.

"Aight then. On 'go,' we'll begin," she yelled in his direction with a glint in her eye, before she looked to the south. She then stepped her right foot forward to lean her hands on her knee, "3… 2…"

Edward rolled his shoulders back and bounced from one foot to the other in preparation.

"1…" her heart rate was already up with excitement, " _Go!_ "

She ended up back where they were not two minutes ago. " _Adiós_ , Edward!" She hopped down from the tiled rooftops and ran to the side, out of sight.

 _Isn't that against the-_ "Cheater!" Edward shouted in her direction, a smile lingering on his face.

After jumping over a few gaps where roads stretched below, Edward passed a familiar church bell tower. _'Ello, Bonnet_ , he thought as he pat the yellow stone briefly while sprinting _._ He soon reached the roof of the tavern.

There, Mary reappeared at his right, "It ain't cheatin' if ye don't touch the dirt!" Edward turned his head as she got from to his left side, and caught a glimpse of her hopping onto a tree branch to scuttle along it.

Edward turned right slightly so that he began to run west, since there was no easy way to cross a wide street in front of him. He kept sprinting past tile after tile, yet found Mary running into his path again.

Briefly locking gazes with one another, they pirates laughed in short bursts, taking quick breaths in between: after all this running, neither of them was really ahead of the other!

"At this rate I'm considering going on the ground to give us some distance!" he joked.

"Hahah," Mary chuckled faintly, and jumped onto another tree branch to their left, going south now.

Edward saw that if he kept going west, he would be getting farther from the meeting point rather than nearer to it. He needed to start heading south soon. As he neared the next gap he would need to cross if he were to keep going straight, he saw on his left that the area, a market of sorts, was nearly all open space.

Going straight would mean continuing west too long, going right would mean going north, and turning and heading back would mean following Mary and losing the race. That left the market as the best option, but the only way across the area involved his boots meeting dirt. He seriously considered going down to get to the church on the other side, where he was likely to have an easy path to the beach.

He went for it. He went down, first landing on the balustrade of a lower floor.

Racing's fun. Racing against Kidd's fun. It'd be more fun to win.

He felt the passersby's eyes on him as he stepped onto the top of a shop. They were likely also commenting on his bloodstained clothes, but right now, that didn't matter. Getting across the market did.

Once he crossed the gap, he ascended the side of the church. From the roof he could clearly see the water and surrounding islands. All he had to do was traverse one hut, speed along a fence, and fling himself off an overturned, dilapidated boat, and he'd be bathing in sand.

So he climbed onto some crates, ran across a thankfully sturdy clothesline, and stepped onto the roof of this last hut. Jumping down and running along the fence surrounding the hut's small farm, he was vaguely reminded of his days among the sheep on his parents' farm, a typical Welsh lad. It almost disgusted him to think about it.

From the fence to the weather-beaten rowboat, Edward rolled onto the sand, and stood up to continue walking briskly towards the water. He relished the way his boots sank into the sand.

He didn't see Mary around. He got there first!

He delightedly reduced his speed to catch his breath- but was tackled by someone hiding in the shrubbery.

Then he _screeched_.

They grunted as they both hit the sand, rolling downhill two or three times before stopping.

If Mary didn't know better, she would have thought a child was being kidnapped off in the distance, or perhaps a woman being assaulted, and she would have used eagle vision to better locate the chaos. Instead, she lifted herself off her stomach and got on her side, next to Edward on his back, and gaped at him most bewilderedly.

Then she _roared_ in laughter.

"What," she gasped, "the _fuck_ was 'at?"

Edward attempted to suppress his laughter, which resulted in sputters. He was flush from both running and the humiliation from shrieking, and he yelled, "Ya didn't bloody hear shite, mate. _Jaysus!_ " He pushed her shoulder so that she rolled onto her back, causing her to laugh even harder.

"Sorry to say, Kenway," a couple gasps from laughing, "but I believe the whole o' Havana heard ye."

Grinning and shaking his head, Edward lifted himself and pat off the sand from his garb. He offered a hand to his toppled friend, still grasping her sides, which she took and used to haul herself up.

Both pirates stumbled, regaining balance and composure. They held onto each other to still themselves, and their facial muscles began to relax, but, with a mutual coquettish look reminding them both of their antics today, their composure faltered and they began to snicker once more.

"We're such juveniles," Mary grinned and pushed Edward away.

"Hah! And here I presumed it was merely _you_ who's the adolescent among pirates, _James Kidd_."

"An' 'ow old're ye, precisely? No more'n twenty-five? Yer barely full-grown!"

"I'll tell you if ya tell me first _your_ age," he crossed his arms, tilted his head back, and smirked, a gesture familiar to his eyes.

"Twenty-seven," she said simply, parroting his posture.

"Ah!" he nodded, _She's older than me, then. By three years?_ "Then I'm twenty-four." He mentally confirmed the arithmetic _, 1693… 1717… 1716? No, it is 1717. Aye- 24, then._ "So you're three years older." _He nodded slowly this time, an easy smile on his face, having nothing more to say to that._

Mary smirked and nodded back, uncrossing her arms. Her hazel eyes wandered downward slightly, to his own smirk, and back again up to his eyes. Edward's own eyes, ever accustomed to reading body language, searched hers back for approval.

And approval he found. Mary leaned forward, her painted lips parted and her lined eyes lidded. His eyes involuntarily widened a little before he angled his head, leaned forward, and closed them.

Their lips connecting, he picked up the flavor of her makeshift lipstick and _Jaysus_ was it alluring.

Eventually they parted, but their fingers remained entangled in each other's hair while Mary's other hand grasped Edward's shoulder. Edward's other hand slid down to her neck.

"Less 'ave a time aboard yers," she murmured, the waves on the beach almost washing out the words.

He shifted his gaze from one of her eyes (were they more brown or green now?) to the other, and back again. He certainly felt an impulse to indeed bring her to the captain's cabin on the Jackdaw and have a most memorable night, but he ultimately decided on something that surprised even himself.

"Or we could defer for a more spectacular setting," he raised an eyebrow.

"Whu-" dismayed, she backed her head slightly and dropped her hand from his shoulder.

"Ya pulled this off last time, might ya remember?" he shrugged lightheartedly.

Mary's expression turned almost angry and she removed herself from the embrace. She narrowed her eyes, and Edward prepared himself for the worst when one corner of her lips lifted uneasily, "Yer declinin' an opportunity o' pleasure an' indulgence?" they studied each other, "Ye _bastard_."

 _She's truly baffled by this, isn't she? …And isn't she the kind that's usually more willing to give up immediate pleasures for future, superior ones?_ , Edward was amused by the situation, but he wasn't able to tell if Mary was. "Well, I thought ya might appreciate doing this somewhere more… exclusive and away from any crowd. And may I remind ya that you were a bastard first," he tried to smile.

She looked down at the sand with some strange combination of contemplation and lament, and sighed before she smirked and looked back at the other pirate, _"_ Aight, Edward. What do ye propose?"

He considered the most isolated places in the northern West Indies, "I've a cove in mind."

"Is it nearby?"

"Eh, perhaps a half-day's journey if the seas are stormless and unoccupied by sailors who wish ya harm. No more than a day and a half otherwise. So a day, give or take half. I recommend we be there three days from now."

"Sorry- where, exactly?"

He thought of a way to describe the location or how to get there, then remembered he had a map. He felt around inside on of his pockets and unfolded it, "It's… _here_. At 565 latitude, 539 longitude according to this map. Have it for now."

Mary took the map and examined the path closer, "Hmm! My thanks, Edward! Ye'll get it back once we meet." As she folded it and held it in her hand since she currently had no pockets, she asked, "How long d'ye reckon ye can stay 'part from yer crew b'fore they get cranky?"

"I'm more concerned about how cranky _you_ might become, Mary," he smiled crookedly at her looking away and smiling guiltily, "But I suppose we'd have a good two nights with the cove all ours."

She nodded in thought and looked back at him, "So Adé'll take the lads to somewhere close but not too close o' course?"

"Aye. If my memory serves me right, we captured a fort just by there, and there's a fisherman's village about the same distance away. I can get Adé to keep the crew occupied for that time, without them being too curious about my activities. I might even be able to convince Adé _himself_ not to pry much," he chuckled.

"An' I'll 'ave me second-in-command do the same. Per'aps we'll arrive an' leave at separate times as well?"

"Ah, clever! Less suspicion that way. Since ya might not be familiar with that place, I'll arrive three nights from now, while ya reach it the day before?"

"Aye. Though it'd be more to me likin' if we were to meet earlier, it seems this scheme'll be discreet an' successful."

"Then I look forward to meeting you in a week's time," he pronounced with a posh accent and finished with a slight ceremonial bow, his left hand going behind him and his right over his chest.

"I as well, fine sir," she gripped the sides of her trousers and attempted to curtsy. Not feeling that that was right, he could tell from the way she scrunched up her face, she held out her hand.

Which Edward gladly took in a sturdy handshake.

Letting go but not wanting to part ways just yet, they simply stood there, their gazes steadfast on one another. It felt like it lasted for both a short and long while before they went after each other again to lock lips.

They both indulged completely in the pleasurable sensation. If Edward had been told years earlier that he would be kissing James Kidd, he would have dismissed it as ridiculous and perhaps even disgusting. But now there was nothing else he would rather be doing. Just as he started considering alternatives to the cove…

 _Mm!_ Mary yelped and pulled away. "Christ, I'd b'come addicted if I weren't careful," she murmured and studied his attractive features quickly, her eyes darting from his eyes to his lips and back. Then she clapped his face cordially and stepped back.

"I can't believe we're doin' this. Can we truly fool our quartermasters?"

"I let Adé brieflyen take Jackie and the crew out to a nearby area if we discuss it beforehand. It would be no different this time around."

"Aight," she smiled wistfully, "These next couple days'll be rough, mate."

"'Bu' the wait'll beh werth it,' right?" his imitation of her accent was questionable, but he went with it, "That's something ya'd utter."

Mary chuckled a bit gruffly, and Edward winked at her just as she had done to him after she threatened what now made his trousers feel a little tighter. "Quite," she smirked, and began towards the shack that served as a shelter for the Assassins. The soldiers' blood on her shirt was still visible this late in the evening.

Edward, grinning, watched her for a couple seconds before, too, leaving. He headed in the direction of the Jackdaw, fighting the desire to go back and embrace her again.

...

He didn't step foot on the Jackdaw for a good while.

Instead, he sat on a familiar rooftop, his back against the parapet, clutching a gold coat of thin fabric. Havana was lit gorgeously, and he could hear its citizens going about their ways, conversing in their Spanish that Mary would have fun translating for him.

He would greatly enjoy joining his crew in their festivities, or go about fulfilling Assassin contracts, or perhaps snooping in unguarded chests for some coin (why the chests were out like that he never questioned too much about). But he found it even more invigorating to spend some time just thinking about next week.

He remembered holding one of Caroline's nice blouses she left behind, after she moved out. Since all her clothes were nice, it wasn't so strange that she had forgotten it. Here in Havana, however, thinking about anything from his past made it seem strange. Though he was still legally bound to Caroline, it seemed she was from another life.

The coat he now held was pretty fancy- not something the average pirate would wear, but rather something a captain might have lying around in the cabin. Someone of the higher class wouldn't wear it, oh no. But anyone beneath Mary wouldn't fit in it either. Come to think of it, since she wasn't of the upper class and since she didn't seem to completely suit lower classes (where most pirates would be), where _did_ she fit? ***

Edward felt he himself was of the higher end of the lower class, and climbing. But where did Mary think she belonged?

After returning to the Jackdaw and the festivities, and after speaking to a crewman named Tobias about seeing his family the next time they were in Nassau, Edward finally retired to the captain's cabin. There, he hoped to continue thinking about what would occur the next few days.

His fantasies were put on hold at the sight of five hundred reales on the bed.

 _Did she cheat at the race too?_ he tossed her coat next to the money and smiled coyly.

Caroline was what he always wanted in a woman. Mary is what he didn't know he wanted in one.

...

It's Christmas for Kiddway shippers: Edward and Mary on a date in the city (large town?), causing mischief like the scalawags they are.

Is it obvious that I've never gotten drunk before?

I developed a playlist for the fic when I started brainstorming in the summer of 2014. Each song was supposed to fit a scene, and I thought of using Venice Rooftops from AC2 for the race scene, but the song was more fitting for Renaissance Italy than for the pirate-riddled 18th-century Caribbean, go figure. I just want to say they nailed it with the soundtracks of AC2 and 4. Kudos to Kyd and Tyler for hitting the right melodies.

Also, I had the pleasure of seeing High Highs live recently. They are a pretty obscure duo, though some of you might be familiar with their hit "Open Season." Do give them a listen to- their music has been a part of this fic, as I often listen to them to get in the carefree mood of 18th-century pirates and to get a feel of the tropical setting of the Caribbean. I'm really not a music-of-today person, so it means something when I praise their stuff.

* If you climb that church in-game, you'll find that the cross is not one with pointy edges. In other words, I took some creative liberties. I wanted to make the church he climbs that one Havana landmark, but, as you'd learn by looking at the database, that church was not yet completed in the 1710s. "Abstergo" decided to put it in because why not.

** "You think you can win against a man, bitch?"

*** A middle class was not very visible until the industrial revolution in the late 1700s. Wikipedia: "The term "middle class" is first attested in James Bradshaw's 1745 pamphlet _Scheme to prevent running Irish Wools to France_."


	10. Part 1, Chapter 8

_Part I, Chapter_ _8_

 _May to July, 1712_

What would be the same, and what would be different?

The latter question tugged more at Edward's mind during the weeks-long journey from Britain to the West Indies. Pondering the changes made it easy to fall asleep. It distracted him from the inconvenience of being was crammed with the rest of the crew in these bunks, not unlike his parents' sheep. Thinking about it also got his mind off the occasional seasickness he didn't want anyone finding out about and making fun of him for.

Rather predictably, the first thing he'd observed about the difference between the two places was the change in the temperature, gradual as it was. He found himself wearing less and less articles of clothing the further along they got on their journey. Then he'd thought his blonde hair was stiffening as a result of not washing it so often. After multiple rounds of lathering and rinsing, however, he decided that the change in texture was due to the increasing humidity, and, as a result, he started tying the now shoulder-length locks back to stop it from being a bother.

Sunrise seemed to have occurred later, and sunsets a little earlier, despite it approaching summer. One crewman with a penchant for the natural sciences had explained to him that this was because they were getting closer to the middle of the world, but Edward stopped listening a few minutes into his talking and, when he became aware that he was expected to answer a question, he responded, "Mate, it don't matter in the end _._ "

Concerning the climate, he thought he would get away from the rain and gloomy weather he was so familiar with. He voiced looking forward to perpetual sun, but the others aboard, particularly those who had been to the West Indies before, only laughed, "Yer in fer more rain, lad. Given, it ain't so dull as back there, but yer mistaken if ye think it don't rain much in the tropics."

How humiliating! Surely he should have a good idea what their destination was like, "Aye, I'm aware it sometimes rains there. A pound to a penny that even the driest regions of Africa meet a few drops every so often. I'm just looking forward to more sun is all."

Since the scientist crewman had kept quiet, Edward assumed that it did indeed rain even in the driest areas of Africa.

In addition, there was all the green that those who had been to the West Indies spoke of. Britain boasted acres upon acres of mystical forests, but the leaves of the tropics felt foreign. Exotic. Every bit of shade they provided was actually appreciated. And adding to the unfamiliar but welcome ambience was the wildlife inhabiting the jungles, they said: that the birds were as colorful as rainbows, that the alligators could kill you in one bite, and that the fish were so diverse that counting the types of them was like counting the stars.

Edward also eagerly anticipated becoming a fighter and sailor without equal. Sometimes, when the other crew wasn't looking, he would practice his left-hand swordsmanship. Later in the journey, he would use a sword in each hand in his solitary practice. Then in battle he began to implement the self-taught technique, although at first it was tricky. He would use his left hand primarily for defense and his right as offense, but in time he was able to alternate. He could even block attacks from behind, as he could somehow sense when someone was about to strike, without taking his eyes off the foe in front of him. The captain, a stocky man whose surname was Harrison, noticed this quick improvement, and he even complimented Edward personally, in front of the other crewmembers, "Among those I've seen swing two blades about, you do it with the most grace," he said. Some of the crew called him "Two-sword Kenway" after that.

Captain Harrison's ship was HMS Glory, and Edward imagined that there were a handful of ships by that name. The crew respected Harrison, not because he appeared particularly fearsome or intelligent, but because he would get them to the West Indies in one piece. The gent was good at dodging the larger Spanish galleons and he only went after the weaker ships, to Edward's distaste. He thought the captain should engage in battle more often and against tougher adversaries, so that the crew got a good taste of what it was like to truly privateer.

Edward thought himself more suited for captaining than for fixing the rigging and firing cannons. If he were captain, he could command the men who, being mere sailors together, would be vulgar to him. Captain Kenway would not allow taking another man's right to work aboard a ship at peace with his fellow crewmembers. But his strategies for naval battle were still quite amateur. Other captains were far more strategic. _If I had a better-equipped ship, we'll see who prevails_ , he would think, nonetheless.

Naturally, the budding privateer looked most forward to rising in the ranks and making a fortune, which would enable him to own the finer goods back in Britain. In the meantime, he'd enjoy building his reputation, sailing, fighting, and hitting the bottle.

Not only were there things to look forward to: Edward was glad to leave behind what he did. For years he had felt ready to leave home, and his long-established ambition to get away was finally fulfilled. His father wasn't around to yell at him for ruining their business. And it wasn't as if Bernard Kenway wanted him back any time soon, either. Linette, his mother, tried to stay out of the politics, only giving him a warning not to die out here. That, he rather appreciated, but when she'd also told him not to kill if it was possible, he'd been certain he couldn't keep such a promise.

In any case, that life was miles and miles away. Not long in the future, though, he would consider it years and months away. By time rather than distance.

He'd said _adiós_ to all his rivals, and even the ladies who gave him coy looks as he walked down the roads. He'd left behind his crumbling hovel and the blasted farm.

Good riddance to it all!

Good riddance except, perhaps, Caroline. Early on in his journey to a far-away land did he resent leaving her, but he reminded himself that she had been the one to leave _him_ , and he went back to thinking, _All the buggers in and around Bristol and everywhere else I've lived- no, all of Britain- will envy me once I return a rich, distinguished man. The pathetic me who left that land is no longer. I'll earn her back. I'll not have to hear any more nagging, and I might finally get some respect from her dad._

Edward felt truly independent for once, leaving Britain for the first time and going so far, practically on his own since everyone on board was a stranger. It wouldn't have been a surprise to those that knew him that he thought he was at the top of the world, and that he quickly identified with the other young and self-assertive crew in their libertarianism. They'd whisper excitedly about how they needed no government, and they'd do so like young girls, in fear that Captain Harrison would think they weren't loyal to the crown. They didn't need any parents, wives, or anyone else to discourage him either, Edward thought. Just a strong yet friendly captain.

All in all, it was a very exciting time in his life. He wanted to reach the tropical islands as soon as possible in order to fulfill the rest of his dreams.

The perfect day, he imagined, would be if he got his own ravishing ship and captained his faithful, rowdy crew to a victory against the supposedly mightiest and richest vessel in these seas. Then they'd all celebrate the glory with rum and women, and he'd send word back to Bristol informing Caroline and her family that he'd be back a most successful seafarer, with plenty of stories to tell. Could it get much better than that?

He also thought, in jest, that he could send a letter to Caroline's father telling him that he'd hit William Kidd's treasure. The greedy bastard might come over here after Edward confirmed it with him in person over in England, and the man would spend the rest of his days searching for a treasure that doesn't exist or, even better, be killed right off by pirates! Then he and Caroline could live without being harassed. At this, he snorted and smiled. *

A couple weeks later, when they landed in the Bahamas, he spent the first day simply walking around the town and jungle, and the next swimming in the cooling water, thoroughly feeling the the foreign bark of the palm trees and the white sand on the beaches (the stories of white sand _were_ true!). He ran through the trees, in part to get around the occasional stranger strolling through the jungle and partly to pretend he was stealthily hunting something on the ground. Some other men in the crew did the same elsewhere in the jungle. By the time they were to leave to do some real privateering, though, he was glad to leave it all behind for the chance to get some coin.

 _May, 1714_

Edward didn't mind that his mates were captaining their own ships while he sat here tending to the linstocks under deck. Good for them! But what bothered him was when his fellow crewmen would talk about their ventures. _Hornigold? Thatch? Vane?_ _I know them personally- they would call me 'mate', even,_ he wanted to tell them, mostly to make himself impressive. But the first and last time he said this- he had been in another crew- the others had asked why he didn't sail with them, if they were such close friends, and he'd felt conflicted.

He had jumped from one crew to another over the months, and each seemed to have its own problems. In one, the crew had been so divided a mutiny occurred. In another he had spent only a month being a part of the team when they were sunk. The crew that attacked had accepted him into their gang, but he learned that their English captain had something against the Welsh and he had to make sure his speech had no traces of his original accent.

Sometimes his mates came up in conversation, but in the crew he was part of now, it seemed that they were talked about more often than they usually were. This time, two men in nearby bunks were talking about Thatch, and since the mention of 'Edward' naturally caught Edward's attention, he started listening.

"One day I'll sail with him and Ben Hornigold, his captain. Like Ed Thatch, he's tough, but in the more stricter 'by decree of the law' sense. He's determined, _but_ ," he held out his index finger for emphasis, "He's rather successful. Shapes you up to be a proper sailor and a proper fighter."

"Aye, though I hear he's not so keen on exploration, and he don't attack Her Majesty's fleet."

"I think he's more keen on it'n most people claim. If he's a leader of pirates, surely he's an explorer too. Either bloody way, it's the sea plunders that matter more. It ain't much an issue if he don't rob the English. In mine eye he's certainly a pirate, not a privateer."

"Right. Hornigold might be fine, but as I've mentioned the crazy bugger Edward Thatch is off his hinges, mate! Don't he drink the blood of his slain enemies?"

"That's what I hear, but it's another reason to want to sail with 'em. It oughta take balls o' steel to join them. And stay. But if you do, you must be in for the ride of your life!"

"Christ. _You're_ insane, I think. Who's more of an inspiration, would you say? Thatch or Hornigold?"

Now _Edward_ wanted to sail with Hornigold and Thatch too, not together as privateers anymore, but rather with all of them having their own pirate crews to command and make men of. This talk- gossip?- about them filled Edward with awe again and made him glad to have associated with the right people. Hornigold and Thatch were a good balance between having fun and getting to business. Thus they and their crew gained both skills and riches. They made an impressive duo.

It would be splendid when he'd get his own ship, perhaps by heroically taking the helm if the captain and helmsman were killed in a battle against man or nature. Then he'd claim the vessel for himself.

Maybe he'd pass by Hornigold or Kidd and they would compliment him for his achievement. Maybe it'd be a legendary ship he'd cross, and those aboard would flatter him, before he robbed and sank their sorry arses. He would make a fortune with that. It would be a near-perfect day.

 _Two years and I'd be back, I promised Caroline_ … She can wait a little longer.

* * *

 _July,_ _1717_

Adéwale still had doubts about Edward's plans as the captain picked up a sack, filled mostly with food, from the steps to the upper deck, "Ah you sure you ah bound to discovuh more only months aftuh visiting de area?"

They began towards the Jackdaw's bow, passing cannons and crewmen, "I'd cleared the area of people as well. But there's something I'm hunting now, Adé, and it's led me here. In any case, there's always more to discover, aye?"

"Unduhstood, cap'n. But must you stay alone for two nights? I wish not to keep you waiting when you have been ready for a while. An' de crew may begin to call _me_ captain!"

"Ahoy, cap'n Adéwale!" Tobias was having lunch on deck and heard the last bit of their conversation as they had passed by.

Edward snorted, "And I'd be quartermaster? Ya can't trust me with that duty, Adé!"

The darker man chuckled.

"I'm certain I can keep myself occupied if ever."

"Wid some rum, aye. Else, you go about in every direction, grumbling. Remembuh once we exhausted our supply of it on one of our long voyages, and you asked me if you could do something to help out, you wuh so bored? You asked me again a couple hours aftuh for something to do, and when I asked about the task I had given you, I found that you had not done it!"

"I'm not certain what made ya expect me to enjoy tallying our stock," He looked around discreetly, making sure no crewman might overhear what he'd say next, "Though, ya did kill my boredom the second time around." He was referring to Adé's suggestion that Edward speak to the crew, the underlying goal being to investigate any chance for mutiny. He said in a hushed tone, "They'd no idea the friendly conversations were in fact interviews!"

He considered also mentioning that he had, with his special sense, surveyed their belongings, but since he never discussed eagle vision with Adé, he decided not to now. Instead, he handed his bag to his quartermaster, walked along the Jackdaw's bow, and dropped to hang onto the wood by his hands. He then landed on the pebbly sand.

"I hope your pahticulahly good mood lasts even aftuh we return for you two days from now," Adé threw the sack over to his captain.

"Count on it," Edward smiled back, swinging the bag around his shoulder so that he carried the weight on his back. After Adé turned away to head back to the helm, he too pivoted and headed into the cave.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he thought he heard some shifting in the area to his right, where a wooden structure stood. He put the sack down on a rock sticking well out of the water, and went over to investigate. It could be Mary, or it could be someone else.

As he approached, he saw that the person wasn't familiar. The man was wearing a grey and black coat, and was dragging… a corpse into the corner? Was he a friend or foe?

Edward got even closer. He felt that violently confronting this gent wasn't ideal. Instead, he held a pistol behind his back, just in case, as he called from around a corner, "Hello!"

He heard the man yell from being startled.

"May I ask who ya are and what you're here for," he demanded more than asked.

"Edward! It's me," Mary chirped.

"Oh!" he placed his pistol back into its holster and stepped out from the corner, "Jaysus. Sorry, mate. Not used to seeing ya in that coat. And your hair!" It was tied up in a black, rather than a red, bandana. "The bandana's difficult to distinguish in the dark. I thought ya had hair no longer than my thumb."

"Ye deserve a prize or some'n fer actually givin' me a fright! Aye, I thought the black matched this coat. Yer special vision didn't tell ye I was familiar?"

He mentally winced, "Didn't try that," so he did so now.

"Aw! If ye've a gift, use it, man. Unless yer gift endangers innocents," she lightheartedly scolded, "Well, I hadn't no'iced ye either, so fair 'nuff. I was distracted."

He saw that she had a welcoming aura. She glowed a warm gold, like the precious metal. It fit her; important people beamed that color. "Aye, you're a friendly awright. Not some unknown lad dragging away bodies he's caused to be dead." Edward then frowned. He remembered that the people who glowed gold were usually those he was meant to kill. This he kept to himself.

"Hah! Well, with the former part o' tha' statement, not quite. It ain't a lad draggin' away bodies, but rather a lass. With the la'er, yer right, though: death at the 'and o' Mary Read. 'Em fellas'd nosed 'round while I was 'ere. I very kindly asked 'em to leave, but they weren't so obligin'. So, 'ere they are, quiet an' still," she motioned to the pile of corpses, "But not all of 'em are from yesterday. Thankfully the stench's gone from some bones I found. Clothin' seemed unsoiled, so it couldn't've been so long ago."

"That may have been _my_ deed some time ago," Edward laughed, "Your work today will do excellently," he said gratefully. Now they had the place completely to themselves, and they could have a good time. However, Mary's drab attire didn't suit her, in his eye. "Ya know, I've a gift for ya. I'll come back shortly."

"Goin' to the mouth o' the den, are ye? While I stack more corpses, please take…" she reached behind her and threw something at him, "This."

"Shite! Jaysus!" he held it up by its hair. It was a severed head.

Mary laughed a little, "I 'ad to do 'at, sorry. An' take this," she lowered a double-edged wooden stake into his reach. On it was a sign: Keep Out.

"Uh, awright," he could guess what the task was, "Ya came prepared."

"Nah, I jus' used what's 'ere. I'll see ye in a moment."

So Mary resumed transporting the last of the bodies as Edward went back outside to drive the stake into the sand and twist the head onto the upper end of the sharpened wood. He returned to the scaffolding with the plain but large bag over his shoulder.

The sack caught Mary's curiosity, and she exclaimed delightedly when he took out a golden coat from within and threw it to her. She eagerly kneaded the fabric between her fingers, "Splendid! Mos' bloody _splendid_! It felt damn strange not wearin' it lately. Thanks! Ah, in exchange I'll grab yer map."

Edward followed her to the sandy area of the hidden cove, where tents from other visitors lay devastated, exposed over months to the elements through the opening above. Mary reached into her own sack and handed him the map he'd lent her earlier in the week to find this place. This he took gladly and tucked away in a pouch on his waist, as she shrugged out of her drab coat and draped the golden one around her in its place. Then she hung the first coat next to her, on a post supporting one of the tents. Edward looked up through the gap in the rocks, and found that it was cloudier than he remembered when weighing anchor.

"I _still_ can't get it through me 'ead we're doin' this. Me crew was led to believe I've some mission 'ere, an' to leave me fer three nights."

"It ain't a lie. Ya do have important business to do here," Edward said with a growing smile.

Mary raised an eyebrow and removed the black bandana, letting loose her dark, wavy hair.

"Hm," he uttered tunefully, starting to feel aroused. He swiftly went to where she stood.

"Some'n _urgent_?"

He caught a glimpse of her starting to smile too when he cupped her cheek and pressed his lips on hers.

It was magical, Edward swore, the way touching her gave him energy and quickened his pulse, a mild version of the electricity mankind would use decades later. He soon became aware of her fingers clutching his hair as her other hand slid down his torso and tugged on the red sash across his waist. She pulled him even closer and stroked her tongue against his. He expected nothing less from a bold woman who was just as if not more determined than him to have a most excellent time.

He pulled away for a moment, "I'm sorry. We should have done this sooner."

"Shut up," they pulled each other close again by their collars.

Then she began to undo the holsters on his chest, and he tugged off her coat and threw it a couple feet over, on the post where her grey one hung. To his pleasure, it caught and stayed. "Sorry to make ya part with your coat again so soon."

"Oh, I don't much disapprove."

Still gripping the collar of Edward's shirt, Mary pulled him over to where she'd lay out cloth on the sand. Then, reaching the edge of the fabric, she bent down and pulled her lover with her onto it.

"So, are ya a virgin?" Edward asked teasingly as he moved down to kiss her neck.

"Tch. The 'Mary' gave it away, didn't it?"

"Ya know I'm merely messin' with ya," he laughed heartily.

"I know ye know 'at I know yer messin' with me."

 _Fair enough_ , his expression told her as he responded, "I didn't know _that_ …."

They chuckled and, meanwhile, a few fat raindrops landed on them, creating uncomfortable moist splotches on their clothing.

"Hm," Edward commented and looked up again.

Then a light thunder rumbled.

"No way," groaned Mary.

When they got up to relocate, it began to _pour._

"Jaysus!" he exclaimed, and they rushed to where the rain couldn't reach them through the opening.

The pirates flicked off the excess water from their clothes, but the fabric was still wet. Edward was sour at the weather ruining his seduction scheme, and he dropped his coat onto the sand with a sigh. Wondering why his shoulder stung after reaching backwards to take off the thing, he recalled getting injured in a duel. He looked at Mary to express his irritation, and he saw that as she too was taking off her weapons and, afterwards, her garments, she was much less bothered than he. She seemed to be _enjoying_ the moment, actually, though she wouldn't look at him as they both took off their damp clothing. _This actually works out wonderfully, doesn't it_ , he mused.

He kept his eyes on Mary as he kicked off his boots, and he was impressed at how well she hid it all. She did, in fact, have an ample bosom and fine waist, though her whole torso was made level by a wrap she kept underneath her shirt, as he could see inside her unbuttoned blouse. At the same time, she had an athletic physique. He didn't know women could have this kind of build: a lovely union of curvy and fit. It was no wonder how quickly she ran and how easily she held against men in battle. Complementing that strength with her wit, she was indeed deadly.

Though, Edward couldn't imagine being able to breathe under the binders. To think she had to dress a certain way every day, just to be able to have status among pirates… Pity she was denied the opportunity to flaunt that killer figure. On the other hand, he thought, that also meant that he was among a few to see her as she truly was, and he became shamelessly pleased at that.

"Mary," Edward pointed out, "I didn't bring extra clothing."

"Neither did I," she smirked and undid the binders beneath her shirt.

* * *

"Damn. You're… tall," Edward observed, his breathing slowing. He looked Mary up and down- left and right, rather- after she got off from above him and lay down beside him in the tent, out of the way of the rain.

"Thanks," she said, pleased, "Done fer now, are ye?" she took a breath, "Likwise," she thought about what _she_ had noticed upon seeing his whole body, "Yer… rather tattoo-ed."

"Hmm," he nodded, then frowned, "Just how tall _are_ ya?"

"Really. Ye've known me 'ow long, an' ye see only now 'at I'm tall," she chuckled and playfully hit his arm with the back of her hand, "I'm… wha- five feet, ten inches? Nine? Some'n like 'at." [5'10" = 177.8 cm]

"I'm about that height too," he noted, "Hold on, are ya taller than me?"

"I've no idea."

"Stand up?"

They both did, and Edward became bothered when he saw that his eyes were about level with Mary's. He lined his back against hers and felt the top of their heads, "No way. Ya may be taller!" He felt a bit emasculated.

"What?" She raised her hand and alternated from patting the crown of his head with her fingers and patting her own head with her palm, "Nah, I think yer taller'n me."

"Well…" He felt their heads again. "Damn, I can't tell! Now I'll feel self-conscious about it. I always thought I was a bit taller than ya."

"Per'aps it's our boots. In any case, it don't ma'er, Edward," she went over to where their clothes lay, scattered on the sand, and picked up the two cloths she used to wrap herself up. Meanwhile, Edward stretched back out under the tent.

"So ya say with a pleased look," he said, and smirked with teasing antagonism.

Mary joined him lying down, "I s'pose we've more'n common, mm?"

"Sure. I was what ya'd consider short up till I was around… fourteen years? I started out the year a tad shorter than my mum, and I ended it nearly a full head taller than her!"

"I imagine ye appreciate yer height more'n people who've been tall all their lives."

"Aye, I'm rather pleased with it."

She nodded, "Startin' short an' endin' tall is the way to do it."

"Hmm," Edward shifted on his side to face her, and placed his arm across her chest, so that his hand rested on her shoulder.

"I reckon the bes' way to be happy in the sense o' what mos' people say is happiness, is to be born in sufferin'. Be short. Be ugly. Be poor. Be in pain. Have no freedom," she uttered darkly, "Be 'orrible in e'ery way possible. Then improve, bit by bit, in every way. Freedom, for instance- I imagine ye'd be born barely able to _move_ … Well, we're already born that way, aye? But I'm thinkin' ye'd be confined in a locked room in childhood. Tour the country in adulthood, then the whole world in yer later years, 'ave enough time to see everythin'. It'd be the same fer money- you'd ge' richer an' richer e'ery year 'at passed. Ye'd turn out 'andsomer. Be praised by others more and such. In the end, ye'd die like a king."

"Right," Edward wasn't sure what he could add.

She went on, "But in reality, life ain't continuously finer or worse. It's always a period o' joy, then o' gloom, then joy 'gain, an' so on. 'Ow does one rid o' tha' pattern? I think it comes down to this: we compare ourselves with others too much. Preferably, _no one_ looks down on another fer lackin' money or havin' different likin's. People can joyful without comparisons, aye? What d'ye reckon?" She turned her head towards Edward.

He grimaced when their eyes met, "Sorry, Mare. I lost ya."

"Ah, no worries" she said, looking back up at the top of the tent. Then she asked, " _Mare_?"

Edward looked at her to see if she approved, "I thought it's a nice nickname."

"It was unusual enough being called 'Mary,' let alone a nickname fer it" she mused, "But ye can call me it all ye like. Though, d'ye mean 'mare' like a horse or 'mer' like the French word fer the sea?"

"Oh," he didn't know it meant 'sea' in French, "Well, it was just short for 'Mary,' but either would work. Both suit ya."

"Z'at so? Aight, but 'ow would'ye write it out?"

"How do ya spell the French word?"

"M, E, R."

"And ya write out 'mare' as in a horse M, A, R, E, aye?"

She nodded and hummed, "Mm-hmm."

"Eh, I think spelling it out like 'mare' the horse is better."

She smiled, "Nice."

Talking about their heights, mild philosophy, and nicknames was fine, but she wanted to know more about something that had been on the back of her mind. She sat up facing Edward, and requested, "Why don't ye do a li'l show an' tell with yer tattoos?"

"Certainly, _Mare_. Where shall I begin?"

"Which was yer firs'?"

He indicated to his left upper arm, "These pistols."

"I see! What's their meanin'?"

 _Dear me. Each is supposed to represent something, and I'm to_ elucidate _them like a schoolboy?_ "I'd it done while I was still part of the crew that brought me across the Atlantic, for the most part to indicate that one should think twice before crossing me."

"Ah, same can go fer yer permanent hidden blade," she noted, gesturing at a dagger on his wrist, _How fitting it's on his left wrist,_ "Ye got it _b'fore_ posin' as Duncan?"

"Aye."

"What _humor_ Dame Fortune 'as. Ye can't 'ave imagined ye'd eventually wield a small blade there," she felt her own wrist, void of its blade, then asked about another of Edward's tattoos, "Oi, why the chain 'ere?"

He glanced at his shoulder, "To remind me of the freedom I aim for."

"Though a chain signifies captivity?"

"Bitterness at times has a greater influence on me than something sweet."

"Ah," Mary commented simply, though Edward could tell she was pondering something.

He continued, "The compass, ship, and anchor," he looked at each as he spoke, "Don't have much significance, save expressing my love for sea adventures."

"Aight. An' who's she?"

"The lass?" he looked at his right upper arm, "No one I know. Don't know if she even exists. I told the artist I wanted a fetching woman on that part of my arm, and this is what he etched."

"So it don't bear some semblance to Caroline?"

"Hm," Edward gave a stiff, crooked smile, "Naw. From my memory she was the most gorgeous lass I've ever laid my eyes on."

"Aight- ye don't remember yer wife's look?" Mary sounded unbelieving.

He sighed, "If I saw her now, I don't know how I'd feel. Would she look how I remembered her, even considering it's been a few years since we last saw each other? Would she _be_ how she is in my memory? Jaysus, _I'm_ not certain how I remember her. Do I remember her fondly? As a nuisance? Perhaps I've little care for her at all anymore," he looked intensely at the cloth ceiling, "If I met her now, would she still suit my tastes? Or did my desire to indulge cloud my thinking, whereas my thoughts are now clearer?" he wondered.

In some sort of delight, Mary snorted, grinned, and looked up too.

"What?" This was one of the moments he couldn't read her at all.

 _I like when you express your reflections._ "Keep on thinkin', mate. Jus'… keep at it, developin' yer thoughts. Ye may be onto some'n," Mary seemed to feel strange all of a sudden, and she brought their attention back to his tattoos, "So… honorin' George, are ye?" she looked at the crown printed next to the woman.

"More like honoring my rival in wealth once I find the Observat'ry. _This_ is an example of when something sweet stirs me more than something bitter."

"Makes sense. Tattoos o' beggars ain't appealin'."

" _You_ , though. Ya could get one of an impoverished whore, and others- at least _I_ \- would look admiringly at it," he looked back at his right upper arm, "It would rival mine!"

"Hah hah!" Mary laughed, her grin revealing curiously white teeth.

Edward laughed along with her at his own comments. Oh, he loved when his charisma was at its finest.

"Now on yer left forearm. What're 'em lines an' circles?"

"Absolutely nothing."

She raised an eyebrow, "Then what was yer reason to get 'em?"

"I wanted something fresh and tasteful no other man would have etched into his skin. Though, I've not received many compliments for it being tasteful."

"Art which is nonsense? Not sure what I think of it," she smiled wryly, "'At's a lot o' tattoos, Edward. May they all keep their vibrance in yer later years."

"Oh, I'll not allow myself to plump up," he eyed the one tattoo she had, peeking out from underneath the cloth she wrapped around her chest, "Now, Mare, what's yours about?"

"Ah, jus' decoration. Supposed to resemble a flower? Wanted to ge' some'n to signify me new life 'ere in the Wes' Indies. Got it on me bosom to make the part of me body _extra_ private an' special," they smirked at each other, "Me scars're more tellin' o' me life," she shrugged, "Oi, what's 'at one fer? Grim, ain't it."

"The skull? One of the ones I got for a particular reason: to remind me to be confident in the face of risk and danger. Ya know the way your heart pounds wildly in those times? This brings to mind my undertaking to turn all dread into eagerness."

 _Is that confidence or arrogance?_ Mary wondered. She voiced another thought instead, "I imagine yer eager _many_ times throughout the week, whether it be at the helm about to raid 'nother vessel or in the jungle circled by vicious panthers. O' course, as pirates an' explorers- an' at times Assassins- we run 'cross our fair share o' peril. Fer all we know, the next day may be our las'. Which is why I try to enjoy e'ery moment, bland as it might seem at firs'."

"Then don't fear death. I don't, and I feel free because of it."

"Really. Ye don't fear death," she sounded incredulous, "So yer _eager_ fer death too? I reckon ye might be welcome to losin' everythin' ye 'ave when yer dyin' in unbelievable agony, but on a regular day I don't imagine ye'd 'ave 'at mindset. I mean, are ye willin' to abandon yer aims in this world so easily?"

He found her statements pointless, yet he had difficulty refuting them, "Well, I know it would take a lot for me to die, so I'm not abandoning anything."

"I think it'd be easier to go fer the 'I _don't_ 'ave aims' argument, rather'n 'I can't die,'" Mary grinned. Despite her snideness, Edward could feel that she was simply entertained by his way of thinking, rather than smugly thinking him foolish. She continued, "I like to claim I don't fear it either, but I involve meself in too many thin's to be _eager_ to dismiss all opportunities to further my aims. I think if ye lose everythin' or give it all away- if ye've nothin' to keep ye wantin' to stay alive on Earth, such as money or status or a lover- anythin' really 'cept maybe improvin' the lives of others- yer claim o' not fearin' death would 'old more water."

Edward frowned, "'On Earth?' Where else would we be? It don't seem so hard to believe that someone doesn't fear death, _while_ wanting things in life."

"Yer firm in yer belief, I see. Well, what's the lowes' ye've e'er been in yer life?"

 _Easy question to answer_ , he thought as he responded, "When Caroline left me. _Shite_ were my parents mad. They loved her. Perhaps more than I did, in a way," he wasn't fond of bringing up this part of his past, and he reckoned the person next to him didn't either, "I'm sorry to bring her up, Mare. Especially since I'm legally wed to her still. Although," he thought something wicked, "It'd be a positive thing for ya if my worst memory yet is of her."

"Oh, don't ye fret. After all, I've married too."

"Wha-"

Did he hear that right?

"You're _married_?"

"In God's eyes I was!"

"When?"

Mary snorted, amused, "I'm makin' a point 'bout life an' death. Would'ye rather listen to me prattle 'bout some _marriage_ o' mine?"

"Well," Edward thought it obvious, " _AYE_. Ya can't just tell me about a past marriage and leave it at that! Why didn't ya make mention of this?"

"It never b'came very relevant in conversation! When I reveal meself as a lass, am I s'posed to say, 'To prove it, I was married!' An' when I snuck into yer quarters in Nassau to sugges' we know each other more, was I to utter, 'Like ye, I'm sort o' betrayin' another love o' mine.' Now, though, ye seemed to feel particularly guilty, an' I wanted to alleviate yer self-reproach."

He muttered, "Thought _I_ was quiet about my personal affairs. Come on, tell me about your marriage, Mare."

"Really," she sighed, "Aight. Was _long_ ago. B'fore I came to the Indies," she explained, "If yer gettin' jealous, he's _dead_."

"Oh," he stared, and she stared back. _She does have a point in not mentioning this earlier. Caroline is more relevant to our conversations since she's alive._ "Well? What's the lad's name? When exactly and why did he die? How'd ya meet?"

"Stefan was some upper-class Flemish lad I bunked with durin' me time in the Army o' Flanders. I let 'im in on me secret since I fancied 'im, an' he turned out to find me intriguin' as well. We decided we'd be 'appier together married an' on land. We ended up doin' jus' tha', after I announced to the regiment I was a lass an' left. We go' to runnin' an inn in Southampton. Fer a while I lived lookin' like a lady. Though, I received looks fer sometimes dressin' in trousers- me shins go' chilly, aight- particularly from 'is mum, who took up residence in one room. 'Er father was Spanish an' stayed in Flanders after fightin' when the Seventeen Provinces revolted 'gainst Spain. She was filled with Spanish pride, an' Stefan ended up knowin' more o' the language'n French or Dutch or English!"

"Is that how ya know Spanish?"

"Aye."

"I thought ya were Spanish in your ancestry. Dark hair, brown-green eyes, knows Spanish."

"Maybe I am! I've no idea, actually. Either way, Stefan an' his mum were glad to learn more English from me, though they taught me me own language at times! It b'came easier conversin' in Spanish'n in English, eventually- Spanish ain't too different'n English, ye'd be surprised," she thinned her lips in thought, remembering when she would fear the difficulty of learning the language, "Stefan an' I… respected each other, which was some'n I always wanted in a relationship. An' bein' well off was some'n I wished fer. It felt refreshin' to live differently 'an 'ow I grew up. But, uh, thin's didn't work out."

"Was he too fond of the sea? That's how it went with me," he laughed.

"Well, turned out he preferred other lads."

"Oh."

A smirk, "Part o' why I ne'er mentioned fancyin' ye till I foun' the courage an' trust in ye to reveal meself, or ye some'ow tol' me firs' 'bout ye fancyin' me despite me seemin' a lad. I knew ye fancy lasses, so if ye fancied me as a lad, I'd be fine. In the end, ye confessed _an'_ I revealed meself b'fore admittin' me feelin's" she grinned, "But more of an issue regardin' me an' Stefan was 'at I found I missed the free an' easy life o' sailors. The life of _adventure_ was fer me. I thought: we're 'ungry fer cash so we can one day 'ave the means to do thin's like travel the world an' shite. But 'ell, ye can do 'at _while_ explorin' an' sailin'!" her eyes lit up.

 _Sounds like a familiar thought_ , Edward grinned.

"I was still fond of 'im though he preferred lads. He'd cared 'nuff fer me to admit the fact at all an' discuss it. Didn't stop us from bein' bes' o' mates," she smiled bittersweetly, "Damn, was it a miserable time after word slipped out an' they very lit'rally stoned 'im. Right out o' the Holy Bible," she furrowed her eyebrows in dismay, "I'd los' the greates' among the few friends I'd had in all me life. I felt more free upon sayin' a warm-'earted _adiós_ to 'is mum, leavin' the inn to 'er so she'd revenue, an' joinin' a crew again. But I was missin' support. I looked fer somewhere to be accepted as people like me grandparents, Stefan, and 'is mum'd accepted me. Yet I ended up distancin' meself from others, an' they distanced 'emselves as a result. Frustratin', I thought! Then I remembered to 'ave a good time when I met ye an' yer mates, an' I found it easier gettin' close to others after 'at. Then we established Nassau as the core o' the pirate republic, which provided me a purpose. An' o' course, the Assassins gave me another 'ome an' yet another- truth be told more _tangible_ \- purpose. So I'm respected by pirates an' Assassins alike, an' ow I'm 'ere, with Edward Kenway."

"Damn," he took a moment to process all she'd said, "Now start from the beginning. Your whole story. And allow me to make guesses from time to time."

"Fine by me," Mary smiled a bit, "This is more fun 'an I thought. Any guesses so far?"

"Ya told me long ago that you're from Yorkshire. Made sense, what with that accent of yours, leaving out a few letters sometimes, pronouncing words such as saying 'my' as 'meh'- unless it's stressed, then ya make it 'mah.'"

Mary nodded slowly, an amiable grin on her face, and said with an exaggerated drawl, " _Bloo_ deh _true_ , meh'."

"And ya seem to be the pragmatic, city type. I'm assuming you're from Leeds?"

"Jus' about. A town a few miles north o' Leeds, actually," she nodded, "Now, what d'ye think 'bout 'ow I go' to dressin' as a lad?"

"I was thinking that once ya became set on sailing, ya tried out disguises."

"Mmm," she hummed in thought, "True, but me 'istory with dressin' goes back further. I've 'ad practice, an' the story begins b'fore birth, in a sense."

"Ah! Do tell."

"Aight. So, it's true I've no father or anyone like one. I've no idea who the gent is- or was- an' at this point I've little care. Me _mum_ , a spirited lass by the name o' Henrietta, well," Mary sighed, "She wasn't the bes' mum. She'd borne a son by some other gent she married, but he was finished off when _sailin_ ', of all thin's. So strictly speakin', I've a brother, named Mark, but _he'd_ some affliction in the ches', an' he died shortly b'fore Henrietta 'ad me."

Edward nodded.

"Simply put, Mark's dad died, _Mark_ died, an' Henrietta was in need o' coin an' tried to be clever. Mark's grandparents funded her because Mark's _dad_ , their son, had passed, leaving her to raise Mark by 'erself, as they didn't know the lad was dead. It was the main purpose o' me birth, ye could say: to take Mark's place an' scrounge money from me mum's in-laws. Could'ye believe it," she snorted and met Edward's eye, "Ye follow?"

"Aye. But your mum didn't birth a lad, as she'd hoped. Mary. Mark. You're named similar to your brother. Ya didn't go by James Kidd, but by your _brother's_ name."

"Aye, _excellent_ thinkin'!" Mary was impressed, "In those days, was Mark I went by, 'specially in the presence o' Mark's grandparents. Though at 'ome me mum'd refer to me as 'Mary.' Not sure why she didn't feel the need to simply call me 'Mark' _e'erywhere_ ," she shrugged, "She actually convinced me I'm a lad- a lad who 'ad different indoor an' outdoor names. It may not 'ave been 'er intention, but it 'appened."

"Hah! No!" To think that someone could be so misinformed about herself!

"Aye! I knew no one by Mary, so I'd no idea it was a lass's name."

"Ya nearly can't walk down a street in England without passing someone named Mary."

"Then I'm in rare company. I also wasn't aware o' the physical differences between the sexes. I thought since I looked like a lad- me mum dressed me as such- I mus' be one. It was when I was almos' in adolescence- heh," she smiled mischievously, "I found me ches' was expandin', like a lass's. It was bloody scary! So I go to Henrietta an' 'esitantly inform 'er o' the predicament. She tells me: 'Aye, we've the same sor' o' bodies. Men've others. Thought ye knew 'at!' As if it was me fault I was misled!"

"Rather callous, your mum."

A corner of her lip turned up regretfully, and she nodded, "She'd 'ave me see Mark's grandparents, time to time," her smile became easy, "As a poli'ical gesture- they'd think she wanted us all to 'ave quali'y time, Oh, those days were what I looked forward to mos'. There I was treated like an angel! They prepared me bed an' washed me clothes. Then there was the cookin' an' eatin' o' me favorite dishes," she found herself craving buttermilk scones, "Goin' to festivals, listenin' to folk stories. They even taught me to read! Fittin', though, since it was from 'em I've me surname. Like I'd mistakenly thought I was a lad, I'd thought they were me grandparents."

"What of your grandparents through your mum?"

"They'd passed on, she'd say. Though, it wouldn't much surprise me if they'd simply gave up on 'er," Mary's smile stiffened, "I'd occasionally asked Henrietta why I 'ad to do it, dress as a lad. I didn't understand 'at she was attemptin' to fool Mark's grandparents, me bein' unfamiliar with the ways o' the world. The intense desire people 'ave fer wealth. I'd receive no explanation, but she finally warned: 'if ye don't like it, go starve!' an' I stopped askin'. I figured 'er scheme eventually, when me granddad passed away when I was thirteen years in age. She was oddly pleased. Though me grandmum received the greates' amount from the will, me mum received a small sum an' took from me share."

"What would she do with all the money ya practically earned her?"

"I saw 'er eatin', drinkin', shoppin', pretendin' she'd class an' status. But it wasn't enough to deplete _all_ the money. The rest went somewhere I ne'er knew, an' I wouldn't pry. Meanwhile, I kept me funds hid away, out o' respect fer me grandparents. Christ, the guilt at makin' dullards of 'em, fer coin! I'd feel the urge to shout, 'I'm so sorry, I ain't your grandson! I ain't even a lad!' Eventually, I did it. One day I confessed to me grandmum. An' ye know what? She said she didn't mind I wasn't her grandson, or tha' we'd no blood relation. She still sent funds, she simply loved me 'at much. Though, she gradually gave me mum less an' less funds, to give _me_ more. It made no sense to show me affection, as we weren't kin, but she did," Mary looked down and gulped audibly.

It fully dawned on Edward that she felt emotions aside from the usual amusement, zeal, or lack thereof she exhibited. It wasn't pain that stirred her now, though. She was instead moved by someone's _kindness_. Edward found it strange: people normally get worked up emotionally by misfortune, and grin at generosity. Mary seemed to do the opposite.

"Christ, when she died a year later…" she cleared her throat, "I'd no desire to do anythin' but sit an' think fer weeks after. Me mum, who shed few tears, 'specially after collectin' scarcely anythin' from the will, said she cared no more 'ow I dressed. So I quit cuttin' me hair, an' I took a dress of 'ers fer meself. I went outside wearin' it, but it didn't feel _right_. Those were rough times, mate. I felt timid 'bout bein' 'mongst people, lookin' different'n I'd always looked. So I instead began walkin' 'long the river by our proper'y, everyday fer a couple weeks, donnin' a dress an' too much cosmetics. I'd wonder 'bout thin's such as whether or not me grandparents'd known all along I was a lass, an' I'd ponder what I really wanted to do. No one was there with me by the stream, as I preferred it, an' I'd stop every once in a while in me stroll to stare at meself in the water."

Edward sympathized, "It was enough to sap your desire for adventure, even. So much that you'd do the same dull activity for weeks…"

Mary nodded, looking Edward in the eye, "I'd think: if Henrietta'd let me look a lass all these years, what sort o' person would I be? I didn't 'ave anyone to discuss it with. No father, no brother, no stolen grandparents… Jus' a lousy mum. An' as private as I can be, I wished I could trus' someone with me troubles."

"Jaysus, Mare," Edward thought that his loneliest days must have been what was usual for her. "Had ya no playfellows or someone of the sort?"

"There were a few youths me age in town I'd frolic with in our childhood days- play pretend an' football an' such- but I ne'er found their activities engagin' in the end."

"So what would ya do to pass time?"

"As a child, I mos'ly explored the area 'round the house. It was when I firs' no'iced I'd an extra sense others didn't 'ave. Seein' the invisible, an' hearin' 'the shimmerin,' as ye describe it. But I'd little care to sharpen' the sense at firs'. In the forest I jus' made 'ouses o' wood, hunted, an' watched the more privileged children closer to the city on their way to school. Then I learned to read an' write. I used me coin on all sorts o' publications. O' course, I particularly enjoyed the adventure stories," Mary grinned at her fellow pirate, "Later on, I grew a passion fer swimmin', in 'at river nearby. Though Henrietta insisted I do it wearin' thick, loose-fittin' shirts, les' someone spotted me an' figured I ain't a lad. Then eventually I'd a taste o' the business world tradin' an' sellin' the books I bought. Made a decent profit, too!" she nodded fondly at the memories.

"Maybe ya should go back to that sort of trade," Edward suggested half-seriously.

"Nah, more excitement in bein' a sea criminal an' killer-in-the-shadows. The salty banter o' pirates is more involvin' 'an the feigned cordiality of educated folk. Talkin' with Hen made me more suited fer rough speak."

"Hen?"

"What I like to call Henrietta to ruffle 'er."

He snickered a little.

Mary smiled unsurely, "Now what?"

"In Welsh, 'hen' means 'old.'"

"Hah! Now 'at's bloody fantastic!" she clapped her hands.

Edward nodded, "Aye, rough speak with ol' Hen, you're saying?" _What other things did Mary have to put up with?_ , he thought, amazed,"I've yet to see a mother like her."

"I can't imagine ye'd _not_ be entertained. I began slightin' 'er in fun, since I'd not received much warmth from 'er. An' when I grew older she'd do it back. Ye might say, 'Must've really spoiled whate'er bond we may 'ave 'ad.' Well, I'd say we some'ow go' closer through it, actually. Neither of us were keen on motherly gestures like 'ugs an' smotherin' endearments," Mary shrugged, "Anyway, 'at's a good idea o' what I was up to."

"And Hen? What would she do to pass the time, usually?"

"When not depletin' our money, she was mos'ly doin' odd jobs such as cleanin' an' mendin' clothes. If she was desperate fer coin, she went to thievin'. An' if she was penniless, I wouldn't see 'er till at least dawn the next day."

"Hm," Edward nodded, understanding the implication.

"While me mum continued wastin' 'er life after she lost the reliable 'income' o' me grandmum, I really sharpened me special sense. I became sensitive to where others were. I go' to know how far me sight extended. I came to perceive who was behind me. I go' to know at what point I'm too focused on some'n else 'at my abilities waver- though sometimes I ignore passin' 'at threshold, as ye saw earlier when ye arrived 'ere. I also honed me fighting skill. I provoked the patrons o' taverns the nex' town o'er to get into a fight. When I was confident in meself, I even went after two soldiers. I beat one, though the other- hah- he cornered me. But he let me go. With a recommendation I join the military, to develop me abilities further!"

"We need more like him!"

"Aye. In a few months, I took me funds an' went south. I joined a crew-"

"Wait."

"Hmm?"

"What did Henrietta think?"

"Ah, I left without a no'ice. I was useless to 'er, though she'd been urgin' me the months b'fore to marry one o' the wealthy men around. Tch," she snorted, "But I went an' joined the navy instead!" **

"Why join a crew, though, if ya had coin?"

"It wasn't a _great_ sum, an' I hadn't much of an idea 'ow to spend what I did 'ave. I was fascinated by the sea and by sailin', so I figured I might find a purpose there. I ended up doin' as me mum asked, in the end, an' wed a well-off gent. I sent post to 'er, knowin' she can't read, tellin' 'er so but 'at I won't support 'er. I thought I was bein' marvelously cheeky," she smirked, "I thought to go up an' see 'er when Stefan died, but I bloody couldn't. It'd be humiliatin'. Fer I was a widow, the lad I married preferred actual _men_ , an' I didn't send me mum any money. In fact, I mocked 'er… I wasn't much better'n 'er. What I did best was fight an' be peculiar, what with me keepin' to meself an' musin' so much. Not to _mention_ the dressin' as a lad. Instead, I donned Stefan's clothin' an' signed up to be a privateer again. I left the land feelin' like I finally extended me wings."

Edward could tell just how wistful the memory was to her, even without using eagle vision. He himself knew how refreshing it was to leave Britain.

"I didn't want to be known as 'Mark' any longer. After some thinkin', I settled on 'James Kidd,' claimin' to be William Kidd's illegitimate. I do admit, I made use of 'is fame to boost me own. It ain't like the cap'n was so above havin' 'is name stained further by sayin' he'd produced bastards," she smirked.

"An' that's how James Kidd came to be," Edward nodded, then wondered, "Do ya know what became of Henrietta?"

"No, I don't… an' 'ell, to be blunt, I don't know if I should care. I thought she may have felt a bit sorry at the time I left, but I couldn't know fer sure. Me early life would've been far less troublesome if she were less self-seekin'. An' then me dad. How'd thin's go if _he_ were around," she smiled a bit, yet furrowed her eyebrows slightly, "If _Mark's_ dad were to live much longer… Well, I wouldn't 'ave to dress as a lad, but I wouldn't exist in the firs' place. If I'd some sort o' father figure, who knows 'ow I'd be now… Long story short, me fam'ly life's unpleasant," she laughed, "Though I try to leave the past as passed."

"Hm," Edward cocked his head, "So I shouldn't bother warming up to my potential in-laws? If they won't warm up to ya, what more me," he smiled in jest.

"Hah," she laughed simply, though he could tell the joke provoked mixed feelings, "Oh, I don't know- I've become cynical on marriage."

"That's reasonable. I can understand why ya'd be that way. Still, most women dream of marriage- some, _only_ about it."

"I ain' mos' women," Mary teasingly met his gaze, then looked away distractedly, "'Ell, some moments I do wish I was."

"Aye," Edward nodded. He would have a rough time too, if he were to give up a masculine appearance in order to do what he loved if what he loved to do was normally done by women. He would go insane at keeping hidden what was true; despite the altered appearance, he would still have trouble keeping in mind to sit with his knees together, and not to speak with too low-pitched a voice. Edward then thought of those people like Stefan, who had to hide their fondness for people of their own sex, and felt their misery. He had a taste of that misery being attracted to Mary while not knowing she was a woman.

"A lad, I mean. At times I wish I was actually a lad, sorry. Actually be a lad, or some'ow change the way people think."

 _Oh!_ He could see why she'd want to be that way, too. "Ya misled me for a moment," he laughed.

"Aye, sorry," she laughed too, "Ye lot got it easy, cer'ain ways. Fer _mos'_ women, if they're not indoors doin' borin' thin's like managin' the house, they're out at the shops. _Or_ , if a lady's born 'to the lowes' rungs o' society's ladder, she beds fer a livin'. None o' those lifestyles were fer me. Meanwhile, men've more opportunities. If a lad wants to ge' rich, he creates a business or explores the world or breaks the law. Lasses marry 'em to ge' coin. Society's splendid, innit. I'd love to be at the top of it all," she sounded sarcastic in her last statement, to Edward's confusion. _By being at the top, you live a lavish life, free from trouble. What the hell- who doesn't want to be at the top of our society?_ Mary grinned, "Best thin' 'bout bein' a lad, though: ye don't 'ave to bleed out the genitals e'ery month."

He chuckled, "Though we've the opportunity to! I think I've a scar on my arse from one duel."

"No, ye don't. I've already checked!"

Again, he laughed, "Fine, but I hope ya don't wish you're a lad too often. I wouldn't be fond of ya the way I am if ya were."

"We both know _'ats_ bollocks. Ya confessed _b'fore_ I revealed I'm a lass."

 _Ah, that again._ He grinned,"Well, damn. I guess I _would_ adore ya no matter what. But Jaysus, I'm glad you're female. I thought for many months that I was ever the slightest into lads, but no," he snorted a small sigh of relief, "Something drew me to ya, but _how_ could I not see ya were a lass?"

"Ne'er fails to amuse me. Now, it'd be grand if me _mum_ would love me no ma'er what as well," she smiled back but Edward could feel the tinge of melancholy in her words.

"Aye," he said with condolence.

"'Twas 'ard to fergive 'er. After all, she's caused me misery, an' reason dictates she should do some'n to make amends fer the struggle an' lack o' freedom I endured. But I reckoned b'fore I left 'at pardonin' 'er is the bes' course. Lookin' at what I did after joinin' the navy, though- 'ell, with 'ow I was b'fore joinin'- it'd be difficult to make amends. I kept thinkin', though: would I be be'er off livin' with hatred or peace?

"As with anyone, I'd rather be happy than spiteful, but isn't that ignoring all those years of hardship?"

"I-… Not quite. Rather, I acknowledge the 'arm done, yet see tha' me mum did what she did because she thought it'd make 'er 'appy. Did she care much fer _me_? Not as a mother should, I think. Should I resent 'er? I don't like her deeds, but I think I'm be'er than she was, so no. I won't stoop to 'er level an' wish 'er harm. I want to make 'er see 'at what she done ain't right, but I don't think an eye fer an eye'd fix thin's, necessarily. I don't regard me mum bitterly or anythin'. I jus' find the circumstances ridiculous."

"Awright, Mare, but I still don't see why ya need to forgive her. Ya could leave the issue behind ya altogether. Forget it."

"'Old on. So would ye recommend fergettin' an' ignorin' the problem, or _not_?"

"What I mean is…" _Shite, she has a point. I said that she shouldn't ignore what her mother did, and then I said she should forget about it. That's faulty thinking!_ Edward frowned.

"What I mean is what _you_ mean, I think: A balance between not ignorin' the problem, while not allowin' it to bother me. I don't imagine 'at most people can truly, completely ferget bitterness. If ye find a way I can ge' me mum to make amends, me ears do make a fine audience."

"If ever ya go back to England, speak to her. Demand… money. A sincere apology at the least. Make known your hardship at her hand."

"Hm. I don't plan on returnin'. Not any time soon, at least. If I _did_ , should I demand something? What'd that accomplish? I'd rather enjoy the opportunity to have a supportive, satisfyin' bond with me mum, the way it should be."

"I would… agree. No forcing ya to dress as a lad, or treating ya like you're created to trick 'family,' or suggesting your opinion don't matter. Damn," he shook his head, "Ya have such an enthralling tale, Mare. I doubt I'll ever fully grasp how you dress like that, _all the time_ , with no complaints."

"I'm jus' lucky- luckier'n many lasses with a taste fer adventure- tha' I tower o'er nearly all women an' a good many men, an' tha' I've a somewhat low-pitched voice. High an' low in the right ways, hmm? _Then_ , with bindin's to 'old me lovely tits an' with the claim I'm in adolescence- perpetual adolescence at this point-, it ain't difficult."

He laughed a little, "Aye, ya have been a juvenile for a few years now. But is it difficult in the mind?"

"Since I'd spent mos' me life this way, it's natural. It actually still feels a tad strange roamin' the streets out o' disguise. 'Do people think I look an' act too lad-like fer a lass?' I'd think. It don't bother me, but I do find meself wonderin'. What concerns me more is someone identifyin' James Kidd in spite o' the change in garb, the cosmetics, the tits, an' the higher voice. Me years o' reputation-buildin'd be futile, an' I don't imagine I'd garner the same respect I ge' from me crew."

"James Kidd and Mary Read seem the same to me," Edward shrugged, "Still tough. Still witty. Still unmoved and determined. A change in garb don't do much. So if ya went as a lass more, I think ya'd surely be caught."

"Hmm," she murmured. Was that a sheepish little smile on her face? Or was it a wince, out of disagreement? "Tha's a good thin', aye? I may change in appearance, but not in character?"

He nodded, "Ya don't let having to dress like that get to ya. Ya look like you're amused by it all, on the contrary."

"Aye," she nodded, "But… Ah, I think 'at's enough 'bout me. Yer turn. 'Ow goes _yer_ fam'ly?"

"What're theylike?"

"Aye!" Mary responded, apparently very curious.

"Not as unique as yours," he said simply.

 _The sociable one between us keeps his mouth shut!,_ Mary thought, surprised, "What d'ye mean?"

"Your past is fascinating. There's none quite like it at all. It could even be a theatre production or the like. Pity ya don't- well, ya really _can't_ share it much," he gave a wry grin, "I'm ashamed of my own past in a new way now- that it ain't so boring and tragic as I make it out to be in my mind."

"Nonsense! Yer sayin' yer ashamed o' yer past because it ain't as unpleasant as mine?" she inwardly grimaced at how ridiculous that sounded, "Why?"

"My story becomes boring compared to yours."

All Edward got back was a blank stare.

"Well, I reckoned ya might pity me _because_ I don't think my past illustrious. My story had the feel of wanting more from life, or so I thought. After listening to yours, I'm doubting it."

Mary still seemed baffled at his thinking, "I was afraid _mah_ tale wouldn't interest ye. It ain't filled with much positivity an' grandeur, as I thought ye'd prefer. It's mos'ly tragedy," she smiled unsurely, trying to ease the misunderstanding, "I didn't experience many thin's normal young lasses did, aye. But 'at don't… _glorify_ what 'appened. At least, it shouldn't. Ye want a past like mine? Ye want 'at ye've been in _mah_ place? It ain't the kind of excitement ye'd prefer, I think."

"More interesting than what I had back then."

"If ye insist 'at notoriety's better'n obscurity, so be it. 'Ell, _I've_ not pondered it fully. But c'mon, I'll be engrossed by yer tale because it's _yer_ bloody tale, Edward. We're good mates. Christ, we're in _bed_ with one 'nother. Makes sense I'd care fer anythin' regardin' ye, hm?"

Edward only grinned, his eyebrows raised asking, _You really want to hear this?_

"Allow _me_ to judge 'ow dull it is, if it _is_ dull at all," she said easily. Despite her fairly calm expression, Edward could feel that she was determined and encouraging.

"Awright, Mare." Yes, she hadn't much going for her in her childhood, and he felt rather sorry. He understood he was among the few people she could talk heart-to-heart with, and though he thought himself more social than her, he felt the same way.

For a woman who insisted on her reclusiveness and her need for improving her social acumen, she sure had a way of affecting him with words.

So he put together his past, "I hail from Swansea, that ya know. I spent most my time farming, and when I wasn't with the animals or on the fields, I'd play with the other young lads and lasses. Mum was stern in making sure I kept proper- insisting on me not muddying my trousers and on playing fair- but she'd always treat me with a wholesome meal when I worked hard with the animals. Pa'd drink as much as you and I now do. It'd get him through the worry of not being so financially well off. A hard worker nonetheless, and he was well-liked. Could tell jokes for hours on end. He cared for Mum and me from the bottom of his heart."

"Sounds like a pleasant childhood."

"I found it incredibly unexciting."

"Aye, I can understand, but 'at life could be enjoyable if ye've the way o' thinkin'."

" _I_ didn't have that way of thinking. Bloody boring was it all. Could ya believe every Sunday we'd attend church gatherings, then spend the rest of the day at socials? It was enjoyable if other children were in the households we were visiting, or if my cousins were with us, but when it was just the adults, I was expected to sit patiently with them and listen to their dull anecdotes. We'd do little to no work whatsoever, keeping in mind the 'holy day.' I imagine Henrietta wasn't religious?"

Mary shook her head no.

"Well you're damn fortunate to avoid all that. Though on occasion I'd receive presents like wood-carved animals. As if I wasn't surrounded by animals enough!"

The dark-haired pirate matched his grin, "Farm life, eh?"

Edward nodded and sighed, "Aye. I didn't much mind it, the first months of full-on work. When you're a lad of seven, working with animals is a delight. Then ya find that everything repeats. The sheep regrow their wool after being sheared, then ya shear them again. I tired of it," he shrugged and looked emptily at the lagoon, "I nearly never share my past. A farmboy who became a sailor? How damned _fascinating_. It's what happens after I became a privateer that's worth telling."

"Yet ye've still plenty to tell, I think. So ye've no siblin's?"

"No. None that I know of, at least. But how I yearned for one. I ended up talking to the animals, sometimes!" he chuckled.

Mary smiled slightly and slowly nodded.

Considering the upbringing she just disclosed, he worked out her probable train of thought: "The opposite of what ya had, huh, Mare? A dead sibling ya wish ya _didn't_ have?"

"Aye, ye ge' me," she sounded pleased. He imagined that it wasn't too often someone got into her head. Mary then commented, "So yer from Swansea but I don't 'ear _too_ much Welsh in yer way o' speech. Meanwhile, I'm sometimes asked what part o' Scotland I'm from," she snorted and shook her head in amusement, "I s'pose ye relocated east in yer early years?"

"Awright- first, the accent does become obvious when I'm ruffled and end up speaking quickly. And, aye, we relocated to Bristol when I was a lad of ten," he shrugged, "And my dad's from Manchester."

"Manchester? So there's a fair 'mount o' English in ye."

"Aye," Edward nodded, "Well, Mum and Pa reckoned England had better opportunities, so we spent several weeks making our way across south Wales. We'd pack our belongings and our livestock, settle down for a week, give our horses a rest, and repeat until we reached Bristol."

"Seems like a splendid few weeks. Ye go' to start a new life."

"Mum took it hard, and that weighed on my and Pa's hearts."

"Why'd it trouble 'er?"

"She spent nearly her whole life in Swansea. We left behind her family. My grandparents felt somewhat that Pa was stealing her away from them. Though she agreed that moving home would be best, they weren't so wrong in their thinking: she was still down over leaving behind those closest to her, for a place where she knew no one save Pa and me. Over time, though, she grew used to it."

"Ah. An' how'd ye find it?"

"It was refreshing, if I'm honest. It didn't take me long to establish a reputation. The bad sort. I was rather drunk with the feeling of establishing myself however I wanted, ya could say, and I needed to stand out. Surprised?"

"Not so."

He grinned, "So many times I nearly ruined our bloody business of selling what we produced on our farm, which was mostly wool. If it weren't for Pa to mend relations after I'd botched 'em… maybe I would have become a privateer sooner," he chuckled.

"An' how does Edward Kenway botch relations? One of 'is greates' assets is 'is charm."

"My charm and my brashness, aye? Two sides of the same coin, it seems to me. Pa found my charm wasted. I flirted with the wrong women- they sometimes were the wives or daughters of merchants and customers. I at times got too domineering with the traders themselves. And that was when I was making half an effort to do as my parents told. I would, hah," he grinned sheepishly, "I'd spend most my hours doing monkey tricks with the other lads in the town, or having a few at the pubs. If I brought along our goods and left them outside unwatched, I'd find that some had been stolen when I went back out."

 _What would you expect?_ , he read from Mary's expression as she asked, "This 'appened a few times?"

"A few dozen. I'd not care. And simply having that sort of renown tainted our business."

Mary, eager for more, stayed quiet as Edward stared firmly at the sand just outside the tent, reflecting more on his past.

He went on, "Truthfully, I didn't mind thinking that we'd go back to Swansea after a while. My parents had adored me when we lived there. By the time I was thirteen, Mum stopped serving me special meals for the work I did. Only on our birthdays would we feast. Mate, it's miserable having your family ashamed of ya. Our conversations came to be at best uncomfortable. I didn't like coming back home. It didn't feel like a home."

Mary nodded, but he sensed her thinking it couldn't have been so bad, compared to what she had.

Speculating her undermining his story hurt, and his tone became more biting, "I thought I couldn't grow more sick of the bland, poor life. Ya know, when I'd hear the wheels of the carriages of the rich folk approaching, I'd look towards the noise and gaze at the coachman. Once, the two of us locked eyes and he immediately looked away. I somehow knew he felt threatened. I didn't know my stares were so forbidding! And selling wool to tailors, I'd pilfer things from the wealthier customers getting their hems done or whatnot. Little things like that spiced up life in Bristol. Though to my parents' dismay," he smiled wryly, "I think they were about to give me the boot when they became impressed with the lass I brought home."

"Ah, ye've yet to mention 'ow ye became close to Caroline."

"That's nothing special. I was wonderstruck by her image, and she found me charming enough to want to get to know as well," a recollection caused his eyes to widen, "Though, our meeting was rather interesting. I met her just outside one of the pubs."

 _From what I've heard of her, I didn't take her to be the pubbing type_ , thought Mary, "Ye seem to 'ave luck meeting lasses at pubs."

Edward chuckled, thinking back to when they first ran into each other at Old Avery, "Aye. But with Caroline, the case was that she saved me in a scuffle, instead of starting one with me."

He sensed his fellow pirate's bewilderment, and asked, "What?"

"So she's a lass who frequents pubs an' can brawl."

"Oh!" he also became confused, then began to laugh. He pressed his hand to his forehead as his shoulders quivered, "No, no! Rather the opposite. I was clobbered so bad I was barely conscious when she arrived. She'd come to pick up her chambermaid-servant lass, whom I was failing to protect."

"From what?"

"Rape, maybe worse, from a few lads I spotted exploiting her intoxication, taking her away."

"Ah," _One reason I don't resent dressing as I do_ , "An' 'ow does a proper lady, as I imagined Caroline is, save a lad in a tussle?"

"By being so proper nearly any lad would try to impress her, and to try impressing her involved not thrashing a hero about."

"I see!"

"Aye, that's how Caroline and I became acquainted. She perked up my tedious life. I'd look forward to next seeing her, talking with her so that I was assured I was still wanted. And she taught me things when we were together. I learned my letters from her."

"Aw, 'at's lovely!" Mary grinned.

"Lovely, awright. Mum and Pa thought the world of Caroline, like they would a daughter. Not even considering that they hoped she would make me a true gentleman, they were taken with how she held herself. When she was over, we'd put out lavish dishes on the table. Feast like we used to after a day's work. They were good times, when I could look forward to a marriage, and before we moved in to our own home. Because when we failed at that, we moved in with my parents. And at that point she left. Mum and Pa were furious at _me_ for being the cause of her departure. They would say that if either of them left the other, both families'd be furious at them too. They'd say that's how it should be: that they're together 'cause they make each other better. But me, I ruined the thing that may have improved me."

"Christ," Mary shook her head in sympathy, "Right, ye've described yer maternal kin. What o' yer pa's?"

"I didn't meet anyone from Pa's side, as his mum and pa were ancient enough to find traveling unmanageable. Only his sister came down to visit a few times. She was decent but she didn't liven up things much," he sighed, "I did come across another Kenway here in the Indies, but, alas, the lad's family wasn't from Manchester."

"Would've been grand."

"A decent conversation, aye," Edward shrugged.

Mary nodded, "What d'ye reckon yer parents're doin' right now?"

"Ah," he frowned and thought, _strange question_ , "Likely going about their usual business: housekeeping, farm-keeping, trading, being social. Only without me there, of course."

"Ye don't imagine 'em… missin' ye, time to time?"

"No. I was trouble. Their optimism for me was gone long before I left. Jaysus, they expressed little concern at my becoming a privateer. Well, Mum expressed that she didn't want me dead, but she didn't want me causing others to be dead either. I'm a bloody privateer, mate! People are bound to die from what I do!" bemused, he raised his hands, "But no one in Bristol really misses me- ya know, wonder where precisely I am, how I'm doing. Though I'm making certain that when I get back, they'll wonder why they didn't wonder about me now."

The other pirate gave a half-hearted smile, from which Edward could tell she didn't agree with something he said, though he couldn't pinpoint what, "Yer ambitious 'bout some'n, give ye tha'. What led ye to b'come a privateer?"

"I first heard the particulars about it and life at sea during one of my pub trips. I'd overhear sailors chatting, but it was a while before I spoke directly with one of the lads. Truthfully, I wasn't roused until he spoke of the adventure and the riches, and about how many privateers end up going rogue. Fighting for Her Majesty had little appeal, but I got to thinking I could make it big. So here I am, proudly wielding blades, pistols, and my own handsome vessel, with a crew to inspire and with one of the greatest people in the West Indies at my side, in the process of finding the greatest treasure known to man. It's a good time. Now imagine once I pin down _Roberts_."

"'At's when the fun truly begins?"

"Oh, _aye_."

"Everyone keeps wantin' some'n. I want thin's. _You_ want thin's," she stared at the top of the tent pensively, " _An'_ yer a wanted man."

"Wanted by ya?" he asked suggestively.

"Not jus' by me," she smirked at her lover for a moment, "Yer a target. Wanted by other pirates, by the Temps, by the authorities of multiple kingdoms…"

"The bounty on my head does make me restless, at times."

"An' it's only growin'. Jus' be glad yer not targeted by the Assassins. I saved yer arse, Edward."

He was unmoved, "Ya lot are that deadly?"

"Remember, I trained a good many of 'em meself. _Tha'_ an' a horde of 'em 'gainst one man- chance ain't on yer side. An' it says some'n when the gov'ner of 'Avana expresses concern because of us."

"Awright," he said simply, "Yet I was able to slip around Tulum unnoticed."

Mary furrowed her eyebrows and nodded, "Tou-bleedin'-ché, mate. But when we're set on a target, we ain't relentin'."

He gestured at her with both hands, "Unless Mary Read says so."

"Not bad, Edward. But sometimes it's when _James Kidd_ says so."

"Same person, so nonsense," he grinned crookedly.

"Yer particularly witty today, aren't ye! Per'aps we're turnin' into each other," she chuckled, "Ye know what? I want…" she sat up then got on her legs, "A smoke."

"Not rum?"

"Nah. Seems I've less tolerance fer liquor 'round ye."

"Really?" he recalled their mischief earlier in the week, "Well, make that two who'd like a smoke. Since you're up, my pipe's somewhere in my robe. And pass me my drawers while you're there, would ya? Thanks, Mare."

"Thought yer 'bout to answer 'Thanks, _mate_ ' rather'n 'Mare,'" she said seconds later when she came back and handed him the items. Then she sat down on the cloth, leaning her back against one of the poles.

"Thanks, mate," he said now, standing up to put on the undergarment. He sat down across from her, against another post, and worked on lighting his pipe, "No drawers for ya? No corset?" ***

"I've a few drawers, but I much prefer simple wraps. Easier to put on 'an corsets, an' I can switch tops an' bottoms. _An'_ I've more confidence wearin' these 'an with drawers durin' those days o' the month. These're much thicker."

"First I've seen garments like that, and ya know I've seen my fair share of women's undergarments. It's a sleek, elegant look. Should come into fashion."

"The crossdressin' lass, settin' trends," she drew in some tobacco, "I'd be famous."

"Though, ya already are."

They smoked together, coquettishly staring at one another across the small tent, the only noises provided by the rain.

Eventually, Mary rested the arm holding her pipe on her knee and said, "S'been a while since I've bedded a lad."

"Feels like it's been a while since I've bedded a lass."

"The same fer me, but much longer with the lads," a corner of her lips tilted up roguishly but she did not look him in the eye.

"How's that so?"

"I mean, it's 'ard findin' lads in the business, compared to lasses. An' when yer feelin' the need…" Mary shrugged, "I'll be to the point," she rotated the pipe between her fingers and watched how the tobacco inside shifted, "I did bed 'em harlots. Not no more. It ain't often they ge' lasses as _clients_ at 'em houses, so I go' stares, but provided 'at they don't recognize James Kidd, I was safe."

"Ya went to brothels out of disguise?"

"Well I can't bloody show up as James Kidd, an' reveal meself. Whores do chatter."

She paused momentarily, seeming to hesitate, "Women do the job fer me. Very well. But sometimes ye need more'n a few fingers thrust in there," she chuckled, her face reddening slightly.

"Hah!" Edward liked how openly he was talking to a woman about sex, "That's what ya got me for. Just send the word."

"Sure thin'! So I assume ye've not 'ad an experience with another man?" she asked teasingly, adding, "No need to actually divulge."

"I may have thought about it when the desire'd be overwhelming and we were out at sea, but I've never, in my memory, bedded a lad. Then again," he pondered playfully, "I could've while mind-drowned _sloshed._ "

They laughed mischievously, "Aight, we'll leave 'at there," she took a long draw from her pipe, her grin easing, "Ye know," a little smoke wafted through her lips, "Since we can't always be in each other's presence- fer months at a time, sometimes- what d'ye say to bein' fine with an' outspoken 'bout us," she met his gaze carefully, "Beddin' others in the meantime?"

Edward's eyebrows raised in surprise.

'Because I'm thinkin', people've desire, an' I don't wish to put ye or meself in the situation o' findin' 'at we've lain with another an' feelin' conflicted 'bout it. So as long as we're each other's dearest, an' the other incidents are to ge' rid o' the randiness, so no emotional tie… What d'ye think?"

He snorted incredulously, "Mare. Do ya hear a word of what you're saying?"

She nodded firmly, "Aye, I've thought plenty 'bout it. I've 'eard of others doin' some'n similar. Maybe it'd work out. If we're open 'bout our… 'expeditions', aye. Unless yer certain ye can restrain yerself."

"Well, I can't say for sure," he answered truthfully, "I'll take up your offer, then. But if ever I lose interest in ya, I'd say so. Ya know I like life simple, and an affair-" he remembered that technically, _this_ was an affair, "A greater number of affairs- does the opposite. Complicates things. It's enough being tied to Caroline. I've been pondering it a long while but I decided that I'll end what she and I have, in person, when I return," the next dash of tobacco tasted particularly good to him.

"Z'at so? Yer cer'ain ye'll be willin' to go through with it when ye actually stand in front of 'er an' utter ye don't want 'er no more?"

"Aye. Even when I make it back a rich man and gain her respect, the situation would still be difficult. But I've been in more taxing circumstances and emerged triumphant," Edward beamed with confidence.

The smirk she gave him made him aware: _I'm talking about my wife to another woman I'm fond of and sleep with._

"This is a strange feeling, Mare: you're more like a best friend than a secret lover. Don't get me wrong- you're damn attractive, and it's good to simply know each other well, since good mates can trust each other with secrets. But it's strange that lovemaking ain't the _prominent_ thing on my mind, no matter if you look to be James Kidd or Mary Read. It ain't bad, just different. Jaysus, this entire affair is different."

"Different'n with Caroline, ye mean?"

"Her… I don't know. Looking back on things, our trysts were boring and typical. What ya'd expect of spending time with a lass trying to woo her. I try not to compare the two of ya, especially not aloud. But I must say that with _you_ , I don't feel like I have to impress ya. We can just have a good time, since we both know we care for each other no matter what. And damn, are ya one for adventure- much more my sort of thing. Put another way, we're mates like no other who just happen to also enjoy this sort of intimacy."

"Well I feel the same, mate," she nodded firmly, "I find this thinkin' o' yers pretty fascinatin'. I like when ye display yer intellect."

"It's from _you_. Damn contagious, it is."

"Even though ye've already potential. Yer mind is impressive, otherwise I wouldn't be _this_ into ye."

"No, I'm no intellectual. _You're_ damn impressive, Mare. I want to be more like ya in that regard."

"But not in the sense 'at ye want to be on me level so I'd want to lay with ye?

"Oh, no. No, I rely on _charm_ for those endeavors."

"Hah! Well I want ye to aim to thrive- not fer any particular reason 'cept to be the bes' ye can be."

Edward nodded firmly at that. Looking out at the den, he noticed that it was particularly quiet. "The rain's stopped."

"So it 'as," Mary said plainly but also looked out to appreciate the coziness of the small hidden bay.

Then Edward began to gaze again at her feminine yet sturdy physique, cloths wrapped around her chest and pelvis. Even now he found it strange to think that James Kidd was a woman. He wondered, "Do ya have women on board?" _Not to sleep with, I mean, but_ "as sailors or to keep order. Or any job, really. I can't remember from when ya had me sail the Matador whether ya did have any."

"Aside from me, no."

"No?" he thought, "I thought ya might."

"But I sometimes 'ave female passengers. If yer familiar with Rhona Dinsmore, an Assassin usually found in 'Avana, she's gone aboard occasionally to move 'round the islands. Me crew don't mind- the ones who stay are Assassins, an' the Assassins are a bunch welcomin' to lasses. Though, I find 'at many of our lady Assassins tend to stay in one area anyway, while the lads go 'round more."

"I see," he nodded, "Aye, I'm familiar with Rhona. Helped her drive away Templars," he could still visualize the best areas to place gunpowder barrels, "And the situation's similar with the Vance brothers in Nassau. Jaysus, they were a troublesome duo. Got the keys, though. Two settled. Three left."

"Swell! Speakin' o' Rhona, she knows I'm Mary. So ye can openly chatter 'bout me," she chuckled.

"No one among our mates knows? Like Thatch, Hornigold, Vane…?"

"No. 'Ell, Thatch don't welcome lasses on board- not jus' as a sailor, but at _all_. Rather superstitous."

"I didn't know that."

"Aye. Fer instance, he won't correct 'is crew if the men don't do this, but he makes a chore o' steppin' on the gangplank with his right foot," she smiled fondly, though the expression soon subsided, "Adé 'as it worse'n lasses, in a way. Ye can't alter the shade o' yer skin- well, people like _us_ can, if we don't freckle- but one only goes darker'n what they're born with. Not lighter. The crew respects him nonetheless, aye?"

"Oh, aye. Anyone who voices resentment over him being quartermaster is… disciplined."

"Right," she nodded and thought of the Jackdaw crew, "Ah- 'ow goes Tobias?"

"Toby? I convinced him to reconnect with his family, sort out whatever past bitterness there used to be. We're headed to Nassau soon, and I'll ensure he follows up on his word."

"Lovely!" Mary exclaimed. She had a troubled look about her, however, "Apologies fer makin' ye go to 'Avana from Nassau, only to go back not long after."

"I'm having none of that. Jaysus, _I'm_ the one who suggested this place _and_ I obtained plenty during my voyage. A good 8000 reales worth, at least. I had plenty to gain. You?"

"Less'n 8000 reales worth, but the trip north from Jamaica earned me a profit of at leas' 25,000."

 _Shite!_ "Aye, there _is_ more valuable cargo carried in that part of the sea, though it's shielded by more resilient wood. The Matador does well despite her size."

"Because o' quali'y equipment an' a quick-witted crew."

"A quick-witted crew that's not observant enough to realize their captain ain't a lad," Edward smirked and studied the smoking tobacco in the pipe, "Ya used ash to darken your eyelids that time in Kingston, aye?" Upon her nodding, he tilted the pipe forwards and tapped the mouthpiece, causing some soot to fall onto the cloth they sat on. Mary raised an eyebrow as he dipped his fingertip into the soot and smeared it on an eyelid, "Ah, Jaysus! Think I got some in my eye."

"'At's why ye wipe away the excess!" she smiled a slight, wicked smile, "Mate, along with what ye use to line yer eyes, ye've a damn dramatic look an' I like it."

As he applied the dark powder on his other eyelid, he felt he could brag that his skills in applying cosmetics improved, "Aye! Much better. Might ya have a mirror on ya?"

"None, unfortunately."

"Ah, pity. That makes ya the only one who can appreciate this magnificent face. Now, to rouge up my lips… There's that new wound on my arm," Edward brought his shoulder forward to have a good look at the sutured gash on his skin, "But I wouldn't want to undo John's work."

"John?"

"Our doctor aboard Jackie."

"Ah, I see. Well, ye look fine 'nuff without rouge," she smiled and thought back to their time in Kingston, when she last tinted her lips. Was that truly only a few weeks ago? Sailing north to Nassau seemed to have taken months. After their mischief in Kingston, she was convinced that they'd work out together, though she still contemplated whether or not to admit she'd been interested in him too. She mulled it over even as she tracked him down to talk to him properly again. Given all the thrills that have happened since traveling to Nassau, it seemed ages between now and then. Bearing in mind that they would long for each other when they were apart, she suggested, "We ought to keep in contact while we're away from each other. I'm keen on hearin' yer adventures, though we only run 'cross one 'nother e'ery so often."

"Agreed. We'll use them pigeons. Perhaps I can get my hands on that chemical ya used with your riddles in Havana."

"Pigeons, aye! Though I've a be'er chemical. It fades plain ink after a week. Even those in our Order who've received _basic_ instruction in sharpenin' their extra sense can feel the words. So no need fer blood-lettin'."

"That would be preferable," said Edward with relief.

"' _At_ chemical's be'er fer short-no'ice post. With the one I used in 'Avana, the paper don't need to soak in it fer days, since blood shows clearer in our special vision 'an plain ink. Now, I await the day our experts devise one 'at _immediately_ dissolves the ink yet keeps the words intac'- ye know, fer 'em in our Order who haven't such a honed extra sense," she smiled wryly, "Anyway, I'll supply ye with one when I can."

"Right. How will we know where the other is?"

She pondered for several seconds, "Pity ships can't 'ave pigeon coops. It don't work 'at way, with ships constan'ly on the move… I s'pose we'll simply mention where we'll likely next be in the message. We know which areas've coops, aye?"

"Aye. I think that shall turn out well. For your first message, how about ya send it to the cages in Great Inagua ya showed me?"

"It's the coop in Tulum I showed ye. Ye don't 'ave one on yer island, from what I remember."

He thought about it and realized she was right, "Shite, I _don't_. I'll speak with the contractors about that soon. So post your first letter to Nassau."

" _Bien_. Hope this's effective."

"Aye."

Mentioning Great Inagua to Mary was particularly pleasurable, and he wondered why. _It's because of that time she showed me my newly-conquered land, isn't it? When I didn't want to even think that I fancied James Kidd. It seems so long ago._ "Remember when ya revealed your findings of Great Inagua to me?"

Mary nodded.

"In the weeks after that- the weeks before we met again, I admit I kept wishing to relive that day over and _over_ again, it was such a good day. Of course, I had the stela as a memento, but it was _you_ that made it special. It'd been so long since I felt that way."

"In love?" she raised an eyebrow and smiled dubiously, thinking how sickeningly mawkish it'd be if that's what he meant.

"Hm. Aye, that as well, but what I had in mind was 'thirsty for adventure.'"

"Ah. Ye had eyes only fer the fortune an' not the journey o' discovery'at leads ye to the fortune. But ye didn't see it at the time?"

"Did ya notice that back then?" Edward frowned a bit, "Damn. How is it you're so clever?"

"Is 'at some'n 'at needs explainin'?", she grinned playfully.

 _Where have I heard tha-! Ah, yes. After I asked how it is she's a woman._ "Hah!" he laughed, thoroughly humored, "I thank the world I fell for ya, Mare. I never imagined I'd be enthralled by a cross-dressing lass, but now I can't imagine _not_ fancying ya."

"Oh? Same 'ere. I ne'er thought I'd be into some cocksure fella like ye who made me spill me drink."

"Ya mean that scuffle at Old Avery? Ya got your revenge not five minutes after!"

"…An'?"

"Don't complain I made ya spill it."

"I ain't! It's jus' one part o' yer firs' impression that'd make it seem strange at firs' why I'd fancy ye la'er. _Yer_ the one who seems still bitter about it, since ye accuse _me_. See- cocksure fella right 'ere!" She reached over and ruffled his already-tousled hair.

He snorted, "I ain't bitter either! And _you're_ bloody perfect aren't ya, mate," he said sarcastically, but, reconsidering that statement, he added, "Ya kinda are, though, even with your upbringing."

 _Maybe because of it, Edward._

"Do divulge any weaknesses- ya know all mine, probably."

She chuckled, "I've flaws too, Edward- one of 'em not knowin' all yers. Though I do try to improve in the ways I ain't good at naturally. I wish I were more charismatic, fer one. An' more moral. An' wiser… Less tied up with petty desire."

 _Why would she wish to be wiser?_ Edward already thought Mary to be among the most sensible and intellectual people he's come across. Her last comment unsettled him more, though, "Petty desire?"

"Like me cravin' fer quali'y rum now an' then. Wishin' to listen to 'Star o' the County Down'in the tavern rather'n 'William Taylor.' To brandish a fancier-hilted cutlass. To feel the excitement o' sneakin' 'round where I oughtn't be," _Hell, as much pleasure and success I find in sailing, there's more to gain from other pursuits_ , she sighed thoughtfully, "There are other trivial thin's I don't 'ave but want."

"Right-" Edward's smile and raised hand suggested an incoming tangential comment, "I thought that of all the people in the West Indies, ya'd be the one to most adore 'William Taylor.'"

Mary pulled a face and looked to the side, "The tune's lovely, but c'mon. A strong wind don't undo buttons. An' if she really wished to keep secret 'at she's a lass, she'd do a be'er job of it."

"Fair enough," he nodded, "But what's something you wish you had right now?" It had been a wonderful day for him, and he wanted to treat her to something nice.

"Well," she took a while to think, "Ye call me 'Mare,' aye? I _am_ fond of 'orses, actually, an' 'aven't ridden one since leavin' England… An' I s'pose snow's a thin'."

"Snow?"

"Aye. Snow. So ridin' a horse in the snow'd give me two fixes at once," she chuckled.

"I've a solution."

* * *

* Ever heard of Saginaw, Michigan? Well, it's a song as well as a city, and the lyrics are basically this funny story.

** I took inspiration from the song _Step it Out Mary._ If you listen to it (go for the High Kings version), _Saginaw, Michigan_ (go for Lefty Frizzell's version), and songs by High Highs (you should check out the 2013 Pacífico commercial featuring _Open Season)_ , you can get a feel of how varied my taste in music can get. And this is the half of my iTunes library that isn't from the soundtracks of video-games, movies, TV shows, and such.

*** I read that corsets back then flattened the torso, rather than making the torso appear more shapely. Yes, I did research on the history of underwear.

Okay, what are Adé and the crew up to while Edward's running around the islands? I figured that while Edward is roaming around town, some of his crew is helping load supplies and stuff while the other crewmen drink and have fun. The crew should have had a larger role in the game. Should have been shown exploring the places they go on their own and all. But at the same time, not specifying what they do _does_ give players room for imagination…

I'm into astrology, and Mary's pretty-much-canon year of birth, 1690, is the year of the horse! I like to think it's her spirit animal.

Pri _mark_? More like, Pri _mary_.

I'm losing track of the way I'm writing out everyone's way of speaking, so I'm going back to previous chapters to sort it out.  
"Ace, your consistency…"  
I know, I know!

Happy Halloween! Many apologies for the delay in this update. I tried to release this two days ago on the 29th of October to commemorate the release of the game, but this is a massive chapter. I thought it would get to be at most 6,000 words as it's mostly dialogue, but it ended up nearly three times as long. I kept wanting our two leads to discuss more and more topics, in more and more detail. Another reason for the delay is that I moved abroad, _while_ I helped my parents look for and move into their own new place. I'm aiming to release the next chapter within eight weeks. Since I can write plenty around Christmas, we'll see if I can't do a monthly update again after then.


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